


because i liked you better

by dreamer_of_dreams



Category: Start-Up (Korea TV), StartUp (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Communication Failure, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fake Marriage, Getting to Know Each Other, Han Ji Pyeong dealing with developmental trauma, Han Ji Pyeong's past revealed, M/M, Nam Do San blaming Han Ji Pyeong for everything that went wrong with Dal Mi, Nam Do San figuring out his sexuality, Nam Do San is oblivious, POV Alternating, POV Han Ji Pyeong, POV Nam Do-San, Slow Burn, based on a tumblr post about fake marriage for spousal privilege, getting married for spousal privilege, heart to heart talk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 61,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28505352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamer_of_dreams/pseuds/dreamer_of_dreams
Summary: Ji Pyeong says, "So when they come for blood--""If they come for blood," Do San interrupts."When. Because they will!  If you can stop being stupid for a moment,  and I repeat... if that is even humanly possible for you, just quit pissing me off and get on the same fucking page. "Do San glares at him like he wants to throw a punch but reels it in,  looking away.Ji Pyeong explains the evidence stacked against Do San at length before concluding, "They will come after me.  Both as someone associated with you and as the director of SandBox.  And if I testify, although you didn't do it,  the evidence will somehow indict you as having cut a deal with Alex and carrying this out for money. The only way to prevent the jury from thinking that way is if I don't get to testify against you.""And how will you do that? ""There is one way but it's going to be hell. Literal hell.  Excruciating," Ji Pyeong admits."Anything involving you is already hell for me so just spit it out.""Marriage. Spousal privilege. They can't make me reveal incriminating communication if I'm married... To you," Ji Pyeong says,  staring at the pinched expression of his own face reflected on the window pane.
Relationships: Han Ji Pyeong/Nam Do San
Comments: 247
Kudos: 172





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no knowledge of business or law. I made most of this shit up because I just wanted to write something fun. Please suspend your disbelief. Also typed in ao3 mobile. Will edit any errors tomorrow on my laptop. 
> 
> Inspired by exeggcute on tumblr 
> 
> exeggcute :  
> I have almost definitely said it before but by god I will say it again: the funniest possible way to do the whole "fake marriage" trope would be like two people getting married so they can invoke the spousal privilege that lets them refuse to testify against one another in court...

  
Han Ji Pyeong and Nam Do San are getting married today! In San Francisco of all places. Yet it's not a celebration as one would expect, no crowd of familiar faces, no festivities, no music. It's a quiet event, eerily so. Han Ji Pyeong is irreligious and has no such sentiments, so much so that his assistant, Park Dong Chun, is asked to be his witness and to sign the marriage certificate. Chul San, best friend and business partner of Do San signs for the other end. The fastest and most convenient way to do it is in the nearest church, with a government servant present, and that's what they do although it has no religious or cultural significance to either two. Everyone is sweating bullets and a little too eager to get this done quickly. 

The priest takes a breath to look at the two of them, eyes narrowing in doubt. She clears her throat and looks at Do San whose eyes remain lowered, skittering like they belonged to a cornered animal. 

"It is customary to give a short speech, declaring your love for your partner. Would you like to go first? " 

Do San's eyes widen in fear and he looks between Ji Pyeong and the priest. Immediately, Ji Pyeong interrupts. 

"I.. I can go first. He struggles with English."

Do San rolls his eyes but quickly nods and smiles when the priest looks over, humming understandingly. 

Ji Pyeong takes a deep breath, tries to picture himself in a movie with his love interest. What would he say to make this picture perfect? He puts on a smile, albeit too forced. 

"Nam Do San, when I first met you, I couldn't believe you...like I genuinely couldn't understand how you even exist ...as a person, how you had lived all those years... I still don't get it. You're a nuisance I can't be rid of no matter how much I try and lord knows I try."

Chul-San clears his throat then, tilting his head slightly towards the priest whose face seems to have morphed from awe to confusion. 

Ji Pyeong snaps out of it, notices his jaws and fists clenched, his grin predatory, and he closes his eyes for a second, letting go. There is no way out so he might as well go all in. 

He looks up then, eyes focused somewhere in the vicinity of Do San's shoulder and continues, "There are so many reasons why we don't work and yet... Here we are. Because you're exactly what I need in my neat, well-ordered life. I had planned my life for every possibility, assessed the risks at every step, arranged everything so methodically...that my life became a business. Just a lot of...work. But with you, my life becomes something else altogether."

A mess, he thinks. An utter chaos. Straight up hell. Bankrupt. He thinks but he doesn't say. 

Instead he finishes with a smile and a rhyming cliché he read somewhere on the back of a Valentine's card back when he was trying to court Dal Mi, "You're the orange to my blue. I like living when it's with you."

The priest now genuinely looks at the two of them adoringly, a hand to her chest as she smiles like a proud parent. As soon as she turns to Do San, Ji Pyeong lifts his shoulder like he's shrugging off a cockroach climbing up his neck. Having to say all that with a straight face makes him want to puke a little in his own mouth. 

Do San glares at him and says to the priest, "I... Engrish no good. Korean? Okay? "

Ji Pyeong huffs but quickly puts on a charming smile when the priest turns. 

She nods, "Sure, why not?"

He says in Korean with a grin too big for his face, "Han Ji Pyeong ah, the day I met you is the day life as I knew ended. And now everyday is a fucking hell. I can't wait for everything to be over and done with and I'll never have to look at your dumb face."

Ji Pyeong face grows redder in irritation and he wants to tell him to fuck off and call it quits but instead he swipes at his eyes when the priest turns to look his way, as though he is overcome with emotions... in a good way. 

"Han Ji...Pong, " she says clumsily, stuttering through it, "do you take... hmmm--Nam Do San, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

Ji Pyeong is not someone who is bothered by how others perceive him. He is not bogged down by rituals and traditions. In fact, saying I do shouldn't take this much thought and time considering the circumstances but still, he takes a few seconds, swallowing the trepidation before consenting. 

"Nam Do San, do you take... this man who stands before you, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death--

"I do," he rushes, wanting to get this over with. 

"I now pronounce you married. You may now kiss."

"Huh?" Do San exclaims, looking around like a rabbit caught in a trap, glancing at the random strangers in the church who are watching the proceedings. 

Ji Pyeong too lowers his head and scratches his neck uncomfortably. But he catches the eyes of the registrar and smiles, knowing that they do not get to mess this up in light of all the rumours that are already chipping away at the legitimacy of their act. 

Ji Pyeong lets out a laugh and says, "Honey, you don't have to be afraid anymore. This is San Francisco!" 

He yanks at Do San's arm, using the surprise to his advantage and swooping the taller man to rest against his arm sideways and kissing him before he can say a thing. When he feels Do San resisting, he deepens the swoop to unbalance the other and presses his lips almost aggressively to avoid any noise of disapproval from escaping Do San's mouth. 

By the time he lets go, Do San almost drops to the floor and has to reconfigure like an awkward giraffe and Ji pyeong could swear something came lose in his spinal column. He straightens slowly, wincing when he hears his joints crack. 

The priest hides her laughter in her palms and Do San, wanting to take revenge, smiles devilishly before hurriedly saying, "Catch me!" and launching himself at Ji Pyeong. He does instinctively catch the taller man but can't keep the painful moan reined in this time, dropping him gently back on his feet and saying, "We're too old for this, Do San, ah."

"Speak for yourself, old man, " says Do San clearly in English before realising that he shouldn't.

By the time they leave the church, a black town car awaits them. Ji Pyeong opens the door and lets Do San in first before following. Not five minutes pass by in silence before Ji Pyeong orders the driver to stop the car by a bus stop and kicks Do San out without sparing a glance. 

When the younger man opens his mouth to complain, he looks at him, eyebrows raised, "Get a bus."

"But-- I'm like two minutes away from your place and --"

He leans in closer with a dangerous smirk, "Have you forgotten? I don't fucking care."

Do San rolls his eyes and gets out, removing his tuxedo to hang it on his shoulder. 

"And you'll be paying for the damages on my suit," Ji Pyeong says curtly before closing the window. The car speeds ahead, leaving Do San in the drizzle, trying to protect the suit from any further ruin. 

*****

5 months before

Ji Pyeong watches the news as he jogs on his treadmill, a morning routine he never skips. But seeing the breaking news in the business world makes him step off the treadmill before he could even break a sweat. Because the cold shivers that ran down his spine was enough to get his heart racing. 

Breaking news: 2STO under investigation for corporate fraud. Whistle-blowers have come forward accusing 2STO of tax evasion through the acquisition of their newest South Korean service provider, SamSan tech. SamSan tech, after being absorbed by the parent company, had continued to provide non-profit image and voice recognition service globally for the visually impaired. As part of their CSR, 2STO had acquired and invested in the R&D of the worldwide free app, Noongil. Nam Do San, the lead developer and subsequent CEO of 2STO's latest branch had promised to unveil an update that would allow Noongil to identify medications up to 92.4% accuracy. 2STO had applied for tax exemption up to 12 billion dollars upon investing in the cutting edge technology. However, the recent changes to the terms and conditions and multiple hidden charges within the app has caused a public outrage...

*****  
3 months before

"Noongil services have been temporarily terminated until the court comes to a decision..." Ji Pyeong explains with a heavy heart to Dal Mi and Ms Choi. 

He wants to cry, shout, break something when he sees the two women in his life he has come to regard as family sob quietly, knowing life is about to become a lot more complicated and darker. 

"What about Do San?" asks Dal Mi through her tears. 

He expects the question to sting a little, being reminded of the fact that he was never an actual competitor to her heart, but it doesn't because he too is worried about the younger man. He knows multinational corporations like these scapegoat newbies like Do San to escape charges. Do San has only been working at 2STO for a year and a half, he is in the States under a work visa, a non-citizen that one can easily shift blame upon while bribing a few officials to make it the truth. He has been speaking to the legal team in SH Venture Capital, consulting them about the issue as a private matter. 

"If things don't go according to plan... It won't be good," Ji Pyeong says with trepidation. 

Dal Mi buries her face in her hands, "This is all my fault. "

"No, it isn't. If anything... It's mine."

Dal Mi sniffs in despair, shaking her head. "You've done nothing but help us. It's my fault for not reading the contract properly and--"

"I should have bailed you out. All of you. Do San begged me to. I... I assumed 2STO wouldn't be as unethical as this. I--I'm sorry, Ms Choi... I'm so sorry," he stutters as he chokes back his tears unsuccessfully. 

Ms Choi, though now mostly blind, reaches over and runs her hands across Ji Pyeong's face, her lips trembling as she puts on a brave front. 

"Ssshhhhhh, good boy. Don't worry about me. I have Dal Mi. I have you. What more do I need? You go do what you must to help that poor boy."

*****

By sheer bad luck or by Alex's design- more likely the latter, 2STO's investigation seems to produce more and more incriminating evidence that point towards Do San. Eventually, everyone involved in the SandBox residency program associated with SamSan Tech face some level of potential legal threat. 

Ji Pyeong and his trusted assistant, Dong Chun take a flight to San Francisco upon the legal advice given to him by sources that cannot be named. Do San hasn't been answering Ji Pyeong's calls. Maybe he's busy with the current problems, maybe he's still pissed off about his failed romance with Dal Mi and wants to blame Ji Pyeong for it. It's most likely the latter but still, out of the kindness of his heart , he seeks Do San out, he tells himself. Nothing to do with needing to save Noongil and finally come close to paying off the debt of life that he owes Ms Choi.

He knocks on Do San's front door. When the younger man opens the door, looking absolutely dumbfounded at the sight of Ji Pyeong, he lets himself in quietly, removes his jacket and casually remarks on the weather in San Francisco, all while hoping the ground will break open and swallow him whole so he wouldn't have to say the words that are about to leave his lips. He hates it but he has asked many legal consultants and this is the only way to not incriminate Do San further, to prevent SandBox from being falsely accused, and to get Noongil out of 2STO's hands. He needs to do this and maybe if he can lure Do San in with the hope of getting together with Dal Mi, he can get the younger man to get over his hatred for him and agree to the plan. 

"Mr Han, what are you doing here? " Do San asks, crossing his arms. 

"To help..."

"I don't need your help, " the younger man answers resolutely. "I've hired my lawyer and things are taken care of--"

"Getting more help won't hurt. "

"It will if it's from you," Do San says gritting his teeth.

"Do you _want_ to go to jail? Is that it?"

Do San opens his mouth to rebut but Ji Pyeong interrupts, "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for myself. My business and my debt. And for what it's worth, I'm not pursuing Dal Mi. In fact, she still seems to be invested in your personal well being. So if you can keep your pride aside for one moment and just listen..."

Eventually, he manages to get Do San to give him a chance to explain his plan, what he has come to identify as the weak link. It didn't make a whole lot of sense to him but he tries his best to articulate it the way the lawyers did.

"So, obviously, they're going to come after SandBox next and I have to put a stop to it--"

"Ah, of course. The ultimate saviour, you. Can you stop pretending to give a shit?" Do San says, rolling his eyes. 

"No, not the saviour. The director. So yeah, I should give a shit lest I wanna lose my job like you did."

"Director? SH Venture?" Do San asks, surprised. 

"And SandBox. And I refuse to let the whole programme and my hundreds of employees be brought down to ruins because you wouldn't listen to my professional advice, so shut up and listen," Ji Pyeong says, a finger pointing accusingly at Do San.

Do San lowers his gaze in frustration but he nods. 

"Okay.. " Ji Pyeong starts. "As your mentor, I'm the only one.. "

"Former," Do San corrects.

"Former mentor.. I know the app from inception to launch. Dal Mi knows too as the former CEO... and Sa-ha... But by 2STO terminating them, they are no longer implicated by law. So when they come for blood--"

" _If_ they come for blood," Do San interrupts again. 

"When. Because they will! If you can stop being stupid for a moment, and I repeat _if_ that is even humanly possible for you, just quit pissing me off and get on the same fucking page. "

Do San glares at him like he wants to throw a punch but reels it in, looking away. 

Ji Pyeong explains the evidence stacked against Do San at length before concluding, "They will come after me. Both as someone associated with you and as the director of SandBox. And if I testify, although you didn't do it, the evidence will somehow indict you as having cut a deal with Alex and carrying this out for money. The only way to prevent the jury from thinking that way is if I don't get to testify against you."

"And how will you do that? "

"There is one way but it's going to be hell. Literal hell. Excruciating," Ji Pyeong admits. 

"Anything involving you is already hell for me so just spit it out."

Ji Pyeong glares at him before moving away, looking out the window of Do San's 27th floor apartment. 

"Marriage. Spousal privilege. They can't make me reveal incriminating communication if I'm married... To you," Ji Pyeong says, staring at the pinched expression of his own face reflected on the window pane. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank Hotgitay and Geallybells. Without your comments, I wouldn't have found the motivation to continue this fic. But as I'm writing it, I'm having fun and that's a nice feeling.

A part of Ji Pyeong wants to despise Do San for uprooting him from his home and company and life as he knew it to end up working remotely from San Francisco with an assistant that frustrates him even on a good day. He wants to rage at Do San for choosing Alex’s investment over his because of his stupid pride. He wants to hold the younger man by his collars, push him against the wall and ask him if it were all fucking worth it – losing the girl he loved, the company he started, Noongil, the one good thing he put in the world to make up for the waste of space that he had been for so long. But a larger part of him is exhausted of anger and can’t help but… empathise. Because that’s exactly what he would have done when he was younger. He personally had held on to anger and pride like the burning mulch that will keep him warm through the winter days. But now he’s older, wiser… just plain tired. He thought if he kept running after one success or another, his loneliness will not catch up to him. He feels himself slowing down as he runs out of options. There’s only so much success that one can achieve professionally. Personally, he has lost at every turn, he knows. Now, he saunters, feeling the loneliness breathe down his neck, knowing one day it will be the death of him and accepting it as the way of life for an orphan. He was set to fail at this race before he even started. Some people will just live and die unhappy and he is one of those. But perhaps if he can help someone else escape that life, maybe that would keep him running for a little while longer.

That’s what he tells himself as he packs his clothing and the limited items he brought with him to move in with Do San. He knew that eventually the US Citizenship and Immigration Services would come sniffing around for marriage fraud and they’d have to be living together as proof. That’s the reason he rented a place close to Do San’s. But what he didn’t expect was to have the younger man turn around and say that there is no way in hell that he will be the one moving out to Ji Pyeong’s place. Especially given that he had lived here long enough to make the place a home and he hates the idea of depending on Ji Pyeong for anything. The shitty part about all this is if Ji Pyeong had known this would happen, he wouldn’t have married him in the first place. Of all things, this would have been the deal breaker. He likes having his own space. He may collect certain luxurious items but his place is always pretty empty, hotel-like in many ways. It’s a habit he couldn’t let go, making sure everything essential can be packed in a bag to go if and when misfortune strikes him again and he is out on the streets. He is absolutely appalled by the idea of sharing a space with Do San, a studio apartment with one bed for fuck’s sake, and to have the younger man dictate the rules. But it’s a matter of time before the USCIS officer comes knocking and he knows what’s at stake. So, he sucks it up, sends his assistant home to keep an eye out at SH Venture while he works remotely for a few months.

He knocks on Do San’s door, a jacket slung over his forearm and dragging one suitcase behind him.

Do San opens the door with an indifferent expression, goes back to his video games without saying a word while Ji Pyeong uncomfortably steps in.

“Haissh… this place is an even bigger mess than when I first laid eyes on it,” comments the older man, kicking at the scattered shoes by the door before taking his off and placing them properly on the shelf.

Do San wordlessly stares at the screen but the aggressive clicking of the buttons and toggle indicate that he was in fact listening.

Ji Pyeong sighs, distressed by the amount of things all around him.

“Why do you need so much? This is such a small apartment to have this much shit around,” Ji Pyeong remarks.

He drags his bag to the corner where the closet is and opens to see where he can hang his clothes. It would seem extremely suspicious if he still kept everything in a luggage like he was ready to leave at any point. But he stares at the closet, already filled with Do San’s numerous coats and jackets and shirts and pants and ties and oh lord… he feels claustrophobic already.

“Why the fuck do you need so many coats—“

“You know what?!” he hears a crash as Do San throws his controller aside carelessly and storms towards him. “Say one more shit about my place and I will deck you.”

Ji Pyeong glares back silently, tempted to get into a fight but knowing the two of them will look a lot less convincing as a couple if they had yellowing bruises on their faces.

Do San exhales loudly, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

He walks away like he’s done talking but turns abruptly, halfway across the room, “Seriously, you’re a fucking hypocrite, you know that? Why do _I_ need so much… Why do YOU need so much? You forget that I’ve seen what you own, the shitload of money you spend on your ties and cufflinks… You’re the one to talk.”

Ji Pyeong rolls his eyes, “My job requires all that, you moron. I have to look like I’m made of money; I work for the largest venture capital in Seoul and possibly the entire country. I would expect that after all these years in the real world working, you’d have the basic sense to know all that but you’re still acting like a naïve village idiot.”

“You talk so fucking much for a privileged bastard, sitting on a pedestal--”

Ji Pyeong scoffs, looking around incredulously, “Me? Privileged? On a pedestal? Coming from you? Whaaa—how’s living in San Francisco like, by the way? Asking for a friend.”

“Everything I have, I’ve had to fight for it! Claw my way out of so many failures and so many bastards like you spitting on my face. All those sleepless nights, eating plain ramen with salt while working in a hot box of potential electrical failure next to fucking roaches—“

Ji Pyeong sputters dramatically, looking surprised, “Oh sorry, I didn’t know. You mean the ramen you got from your mum’s kitchen cabinet? The shit place you rented—oops sorry, your _father_ rented for you--”

Before he could say more, Do San rushes at him and grabs him by the collar, “What the fuck have you ever done for this world, huh? So, what is it? You were born rich and have daddy issues? Your mum bought you a car but couldn’t spare you the attention? You work for a company that does the math and lets you decide whether it’s safe to invest money that is not your own while you comfortably sit in your penthouse facing the Han River. If a small start-up business is good enough to catch your attention, you get to condescend them for the rest of their lives while they grow and make money for you. You get to take the credit for all their success. If not, you break them. What even is the use of you as a person? If it’s not you, it’s another rich dick sitting in your chair. Have you ever created anything out of nothing, huh, Director Han? Have you contributed anything constructive to anyone other than your patronizing bullshit?”

Ji Pyeong wants to take the bait, wants to give back as good as he gets but he knows a wounded child when he sees one.

So, he just rolls his eyes and pushes Do San’s hands away, muttering, “Don’t be stupid and throw a punch. If the immigration officers show up this week, you’d look like an abusive husband.”

Surprisingly enough, the word ‘husband’ shocks both of them despite it being the very reason they are there in that moment together. Ji Pyeong turns away feeling queasy and he knows instinctively that Do San would look repulsed at the idea of a … husband… to Ji Pyeong of all people. His mortal enemy.

He quietly unpacks and when he runs out of space, removes some of Do San’s unused, still-in-the-dry-cleaning-bag winter jackets, folds them neatly and places them in the suitcase. Do San goes back to playing his game, adamantly ignoring Ji Pyeong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please please feed the word monster with your comments :)


	3. Chapter 3

Ji Pyeong spreads his files and laptop on the kitchen counter and begins working in silence while Do San wastes away on his PlayStation or whatever the hell it is that young people are obsessed about. He has a job to do after all and can’t be expected to babysit this unemployed baby awaiting court trial who seems to live on beer and spite. But after a few hours of replying to all emails and then refreshing the page for the millionth time hoping for more work, Ji Pyeong knows he’s done for the day. He must distract himself with something else to do. So he decides to go out for a walk, find a nice place for takeaways and eat dinner early and go to sleep. When he wakes up, there will be work to do again and he wouldn’t have to deal with whatever the hell that is making him feel dreadful.

When he tells Do San he’s going out, the younger man, without so much as sparing him a glance, says, “Lift that pot. There’s a spare key under. Let yourself in later.”

Ji Pyeong is surprised by the gesture and returns it by asking if Do San wants anything specific for dinner.

Do San shrugs, “I’m not hungry. I don’t want dinner.”

“You sure? Not even if I find a good Korean place?”

“I said I’m not hungry.”

Ji Pyeong buys him food anyway but only because he needs Do San to be more proactive and figure out what needs to be done next to secure this so-called marriage from a legal viewpoint. They need to be prepared when the officers come knocking on the door eventually. Better safe than sorry. He can’t spend all his time doing the research himself while Do San does nothing around the house. He does have a company to run in the meantime. This has nothing at all to do with the fact that seeing Do San look like a ghost version of himself, having lost the drive to get out of his PJs and fight for his life makes him feel guilty. Why should he feel guilty? He didn’t do anything.

He sighs as he walks home, feeling out of place despite how well he fits in. _He didn’t do anything_. That's the problem, isn't it? He should have bailed them out somehow but he didn’t.

When he reaches the front door, he knocks out of courtesy to announce his arrival before opening the locked door with the spare key. He is almost drenched from the sudden pouring rain but what stuns him the most is the tidiness of the place. All the shoes are arranged in order, books back in the shelf, bedsheet and blanket have been changed, beer bottles and plastic bags filled with garbage gone, the whole place smells nice and citrusy.

He calls out, “Wow, so you _can_ keep the place clean but you choose to live like a pig anyway, huh?”

He hears no response and he smirks to himself while drying his hair using the scarf around his neck.

“I got you dinner. The soup is really good. Like just fantastic,” he continues.

Still no response. He thinks Do San might be in the shower but the door to the bathroom is open so his assumption is proven false.

“Do San, ah? Mr Nam Do San?”

The place really isn’t all that big for a person to be hidden from view so he thinks Do San must have gone out for dinner.

He takes out his phone and texts him, “Don’t tell me you went out looking for food? I already bought you dinner, idiot.”

He gets a reply relatively quick, “Read the note, idiot.”

“What note?” he mutters to himself looking around. He searches the coffee table, he lifts the pot by the door, checks the bed and was in the midst of asking Do San but checks the bathroom just in case. On the huge mirror, there’s a post-it note.

Before reading it, he texts back incredulously, “You couldn’t find anywhere else to leave a note?”

He gets a response, “Worked, didn’t it? I hear narcissists love looking at themselves in the mirror.”

He almost laughs at that but any joviality he felt dissipated when he finally read the note.

“Do whatever. I’m staying over at Chul San’s. The milk in the fridge will expire in 2 days.”

He sends a message, “When will you be back?”

“Not unless it’s absolutely necessary,” is the reply he gets.

“What the fuck do you think I’m doing here then?”

He gets no reply. He calls Do San but the other rejects the call before it even rings twice.

“I am not the one under investigation for fraud, asshole.”

“Think again,” replies Do San. “Husband.”

He has all the right in the world to be absolutely enraged, he thinks. After all, he committed this marriage fraud for the sake of saving Do San from trouble. He should throw a fit. Break a few things, maybe. Annul the marriage and leave to Seoul, leaving Do San to fend for himself. But he catches his reflection in the mirror, drenched, hair sticking to his forehead, lips trembling, nose red from the cold… and remembers what it felt like to be on the run.

All those years ago, he was out on the streets with the depressing realisation that it doesn’t matter where he goes or what he does. Home was nowhere for an orphan like him,; he stood on a street corner, soaking cold from the rain, nervous about the growing darkness as the shops closed. He remembers worrying that he would be out there all by himself, drifting aimlessly while the whole world was out to get him. If he disappeared then, not a single soul would look for him. Even with that knowledge, he lashed out at the one person who had offered to help. He’s been here before in Do San’s shoes. Sure, Do San is not homeless or as helpless as he was. But at this point, he too is drifting aimlessly without safety, feeling like everyone is out to get him. And it makes sense that he would want to lash out at someone who reminds him of all the things he has lost. Ms Choi didn’t give up on him all those years ago.

Her words are seared in his brain, “Don’t come to me if you’re happy and successful. You’ll make me jealous. But if you ever find yourself alone and hungry with nowhere to go, come to me. Don’t just stand there in the rain. Come home to me.”

The rain will never stop pouring. But he can’t give up now.


	4. Chapter 4

That first night, Ji Pyeong sleeps on the couch and wakes up with a crick in his neck. The second night, he places a blanket and sleeps on the floor and wakes up with back pain. The third night, he sleeps sitting up on the couch with a neck pillow and wakes up with a headache from the lack of quality sleep.

At first, it was infuriating. But by the end of the week, it gets downright depressing. Here he is, in a place that isn’t his own, in a city he doesn’t know, without a bed or a sense of certainty. It’s not that he has never had a frame of reference for such disorientation but apparently his body would no longer cooperate as it grows older. It has grown accustomed to certain comforts. And he finds himself homesick and longing for a kind word from someone, maybe even a hug from Ms Choi.

He video calls her even though she cannot see him. He cries softly as she talks about nothing of significance and doesn’t let her hear it in his voice. She has nothing to say because she has nothing to do. She has nothing to do because she can’t function without Noongil. When Dal Mi goes to work, Ms Choi sits around listening to soap opera but she can’t tell who’s who or what’s happening when there is only background music instead of speech. She tells him that much. So, she asks him how he is and what he is up to and how is Do San and are they both eating well, are they getting along, how’s America and a million questions directed at Ji Pyeong. He doesn’t tell her about the fake marriage or the fact that he hasn’t seen Do San in a week or that he can’t sleep at night and can’t focus at work and he misses her a lot more than he imagined.

But she must have sensed it because she asks, “Ai, good boy, so tell me. What’s bothering you?”

“Huh?” he answers, taken aback.

“I can hear it in your voice. You’re holding something back. Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing, really. Just stress... at work.”

“Then tell me about it,” she answers.

“It’s a long story… Besides, it wouldn't make sense...”

“I have time. You can teach me something new.”

“Why? Are you planning to replace me in the company?” he jokes.

She smiles before confessing, “It’s just...nice to hear your voice. I can at least see you as you were... in my mind’s eye, you sweet boy. So, keep talking, will you?”

He chokes then, tears welling again and his voice cracks.

“Haishh…stop watching drama on TV. You’re too sentimental.”

She just smiles knowingly and he can’t hold it back anymore.

“I… I--miss you, Ms Choi,” he says stiltedly.

“I miss you too, good boy.”

“Stop calling me that already!”

“Why?” she asks, genuinely confused.

“I’m neither good nor a boy,” he dismisses.

She is silent for a while before replying, “It breaks my heart every time you say that. You _are_ good, Ji Pyeong. You have a kind soul.”

“I don’t…You’re just deceiving yourself,” he scoffs.

“Why do you say that?” she asks.

“Haishhh… so many questions. I have work to do. I’ll talk to you later.”

She says sternly, “Don’t you dare hang up on me, Han Ji Pyeong.”

When she realizes that he hasn’t put down the phone, she asks again, “Why are you not good then? If I’m deceiving myself, I’d like to know.”

“I… I used you to get a bank account, don’t you remember?”

“No. You helped me open up a bank account. That’s what happened.”

He sighs impatiently, “You fed me and gave me a place to stay and I just shouted at you and left you without a word—“

“You didn’t just leave me. You hugged me and reassured me that you will be there when I needed help.”

“That wasn’t _at all_ what happened!” he raises his voice. “See, you’re lying to yourself.”

“Did you _not_ hug me... and ask me how I want you to repay your debt?”

“Yes but—“

“Did you _not_ help me look for Do San to save Dal Mi from getting humiliated in that networking event?”

“Only because I—“

“Did you _not_ support Dal Mi and help her grow to become the CEO that she is?”

He interrupts her, almost angry, “Stop doing that! She could have done it with or without me! Stop equating all that to me being good. I’m not!”

“Then convince me. Why are you not good?”

“I’m selfish. And vengeful. And I’m the reason why you lost Noongil.”

“What did you do?” she asks.

“I didn’t bail Do San out when he begged me to. If only I found a way to help them pay off for breaking the contract with 2STO, Dal Mi would still be the CEO of Noongil and Do San won’t be in this trouble and you—you wouldn’t be left to fend for yourself without assistance--”

“Why didn’t you bail them out?”

“Because…” he pauses.

“Because?”

“I didn’t have 6 billion won in personal savings to bail them out. SH Venture wouldn’t invest that much on a start-up either. I tried to—I don’t know. Maybe I didn’t try hard enough. I assumed that working in Silicon Valley for 3 years wouldn’t be so bad for Samsan Tech. I thought Noongil would go a lot farther with the funding they had at 2STO for R&D. I should have figured it out. I should have tried harder—I could have sold my apartment—“

Ms Choi raises her voice incredulously, “Oi! Do you hear yourself? I wouldn’t have sold my house for Noongil and I’m the one who needs it the most! What are you talking about, good boy? You didn’t have the money and you can’t possibly predict the future no matter how much of a genius you are! No one blames you for this but you!”

“Do San would agree with me on this one,” says Ji Pyeong defeatedly.

“Good boy ah... I love Do San like a son but he is an emotional person and has no rational thought in his mind... I wouldn’t trust his judgement of anyone.”

A surprise laughter bursts out of Ji Pyeong.

Ms Choi chuckles too before continuing, “He is still sore about losing his... first love and now he’s lost his job and is going through a lot. He is under investigation in a foreign country for goodness sake. Of course he will want to blame someone for it. And you make it so easy to pin it all on you because even _you_ can’t believe that you’re good. How will someone who doesn’t truly get you know you any differently? You can be very convincing when you want to be. But _I_ know you. I knew you then and I know you now. If anything, I wish I knew you a lot sooner. I wish I could have been a part of your life for a lot longer... What I wouldn’t give to be your mother?”

Han Ji Pyeong covers his face but the broken sob escapes him audibly anyway. He wipes his face on his sleeve and looks up to see that Ms Choi has been crying too.

He thinks he should say something but he can barely breathe without making a sound right now and he’s afraid of how vulnerable he’d sound if he spoke.

He waits a while and recollects himself before saying, “I promise you, I’ll find a way to get Noongil back. I won’t disappoint you this time.”

“You can’t disappoint me even if you try, good boy.”

“Hmmm...I will call you tomorrow. I should get to work.”

“Please do, good boy. I will be waiting for your phone call.”

“I will… _eomma_ ,” he says tentatively.

The deep, joyful laughter that erupts from her makes everything feel a little less awful.

 _Eomma_. Mum. He thinks he can get used to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are like fertilisers to this plant. Keep it growing please!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had written this more than a week before but I didn't post it. I don't know why. I got anxious. And I felt like no one was going to read any of this and that I should give up on this fic. And then, I saw a couple of comments that eased the trepidation. So, here. Take this. It's really heavy and maybe you can help me carry. :'(

He now sleeps on the bed and it’s a hell of a lot better than all the other options. He tells himself that Do San must have known that’s where he’d be sleeping in his absence. But he only thought of doing so after Ms Choi reprimands him.

“You deserve good rest. Why won’t you let yourself make use of what you have in front of you?”

When she puts it that way, it all seems pretty obvious. Every day, he spends some time on a video call with Ms Choi. He places the phone against his laptop screen and he answers his emails while she talks about everything and nothing. This goes on for four days and he is grateful for the sound of her voice. It gives him company.

But he calls her on a Saturday and Dal Mi picks up the phone instead. He instinctively wants to hang up but it’s a video call and she is already smiling into the camera, saying hi. He politely smiles back. The rest of what she says is drowned out from the blood rushing in his ears. He doesn’t tell her what he had to do in San Francisco, that he is now married to the man he supposes that she’ll end up marrying someday. While Dal Mi is kind, he is unsure how repulsed she’d be by the thought, even if it’s just to take advantage of a loophole in the legal system. He also doesn’t tell her that seeing her face and hearing her voice make him almost angry. He’s not ready to pretend like nothing happened. He’s beginning to wonder why she didn’t just outright reject him. Why did she keep dragging him along thinking he had a chance over Do San? Why has she still said nothing about it? It’s been a year and a half since Do San left. In that time, Ji Pyeong has been spending a lot of time in her home. He thought his intentions were clear from the get go. No, he's certain his intentions were clear because he had to utter it while swallowing his embarrassment along with the mouthful of noodles. She entertains him but says no more. Until of course when the news about 2STO broke and he could see how frazzled she was over Do San’s wellbeing and he took that as the cue to back off for once and for all. Despite it all, he can’t help but feel a little used. Like he was a backup plan, something to fall back on but never worthy of being given a chance otherwise.

He answers her questions as politely as he can and when Ms Choi finally takes over the conversation, he ends the call as soon as he is done checking on her. He doesn’t call Ms Choi the next day. On Monday, she calls him. Or rather, Dal Mi’s mum calls him and passes the phone to Ms Choi. Thankfully, it isn’t a video call so he doesn’t have to see anyone’s face. He keeps his voice distant and polite despite the unease.

“Good boy, can I speak to you about something?”

“What do you need, _eomma_?” he asks. “Everything okay with you there?”

“Ya, ya, I’m okay. Don’t worry about me. I wanted to speak to you about Dal Mi.”

Immediately, his face falls and he clenches his jaw.

Still, he asks quietly, “Hmmm… yes. What does she need?”

“Haishh, why are you always asking what people need? We don’t need anything from you,” she chastises.

That stings a little because it sounds so much like Do San.

She continues, “I wanted to ask you, how are you feeling about… you know? The thing with Dal Mi--”

“Why?” he interrupts.

She sighs and soldiers on, “Don’t answer questions with more questions... Do you—do you still have feelings for her?”

He thinks about it for a moment. He would always have a soft spot for her. She came at a time in his life when he needed comfort the most. She was also different and kinder than the last and only other person he had loved- that much is true. But that’s a story for another day.

“I—No,” he answers.

“Really?”

He clears his throat and asks, “Why are you bringing all that up now?”

Ms Choi says, “I am an old, blind woman with nothing to do. Can’t you just entertain me for a minute?”

He considers her question seriously before answering, “I will always care about her. But I also know when it’s time to move on. So, I’m moving on.”

“Why do you sound angry then?” she asks tentatively. “Not that you shouldn’t be. You have the right. I am just trying to be there for you.”

All the pent up frustration coils out of him like smoke, threatening to poison the only loving relationship he has left.

“Why do you even bother?!”

“Good boy ah—“

“Listen here, Ms Choi. I love you and I will take care of you till the very end. And I’m starting to believe that you feel the same about me. But between Dal Mi and I, only one of us are your actual family. You only owe your sympathies for one of us. I have never --and will never-- ask you to be on _my_ side over hers. So, talk to me about everything else. But leave this subject out of it. You don’t have to try and be impartial. I wouldn’t expect that from anyone.”

She is quiet for a moment before saying, “You are also my family, Ji Pyeong. You know that…”

He laughs bitterly, “Yeah, and so is Nam Do San right? So what’s the big idea? You’re gonna tear yourself into three parts and be there for all of us equally?”

“Yes.”

“You are insane.”

“Why can’t I do that?” she asks.

“Because… there’s only so much anyone can give.”

“I have enough for all of you, so why won’t you let me?” she asks.

“Because I’m selfish! Because I want you on _my_ side! But I know I can’t have you all for myself! Because you are not my mother or grandmother or anything at all! Hell, if I had one, I could go crying to her now about how fucking awful everything is but I don’t. I have no one and I’m learning to live with it… so—just-- stop rubbing salt to my wound and let me be!”

He breathes hard, swallowing the knot in his throat but he can’t stop himself.

“Sometimes I wish I never met you. I had _nothing_ but I didn’t know what it would be like to have anything at all-- and I was making do with it. I would have been fine…I could have gone hungry and cold but I would have been saved from yearning for all that I can never have. And then you came along. And with you… Dal Mi. And I had hoped—when I came back into your lives, I had hoped it was a sign from the universe. That we could all be a family. That there was a place for me with you, that I too could have people to love and live for… If I never met you, I would have gone on never knowing what that would feel like. That would have been better than whatever this is. Now one half of me is here… and the other is with you and I just—it just-- it hurts like hell.”

When she speaks, her voice cracks and it immediately makes him feel guilty.

“Okay, good boy. I hear you…and I am on your side. You have me. No matter what happens. Okay?”

He chuckles bitterly, “I appreciate the gesture but we both know that will never be true. Not in this case.”

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, boy! I have lived twice as long as you have.”

“Ms Choi, I’m sorry for venting but please, let’s just stop talking about this.”

She sounds stern when she corrects him, “ _Eomma_. You can’t go back to Ms Choi. I won’t allow it.”

He smiles, “Okay… _eomma_. I should get going—“

“No! We are not done, good boy. I mean it. I’m on _your_ side. So, talk to me.”

“Why would you choose me? That’s just crazy—“

“Because you need me the most.”

Ji Pyeong sighs, “I can’t owe you anymore. I’m still trying to pay off one debt here and now—“

“Han Ji Pyeong, a child never owes their mother anything. And you have given me more than I could ask for. You have given me another chance to be a mother. To have someone to look forward to in my old age. Don’t push me away anymore. I’m almost deaf and blind now. You can say anything you want to me and be assured that the secret is safe.”

He breathes deeply for a few seconds, half-bracing himself and half-wishing she would assume he had hung up and would let him off the hook.

“It’s not—it’s not about Dal Mi. It’s what she represents… Or represented, I guess. I may have gotten the two conflated. But… I will be okay, e _omma_. Thank you for… wanting to care for me but it’s alright. Really.”

“What did she represent then?” Ms Choi asks, unrelenting.

“A lot…”

Maybe it’s the fact that he can’t see her face. Maybe it’s the heavy, anticipating silence. Maybe he just wants her to know for once and for all that he isn’t worth all this trouble. He’s no good. She has to know that. Otherwise, he’s not just cruel like Do San says he is, he’s also a liar.

He begins talking monotonously, telling her the truth about himself that no one else knows. Not even Dal Mi. He has spent almost a lifetime avoiding it but now he starts at the very beginning.

“My _eomma_ died giving birth to me. I have only ever seen one picture of her. I don’t even remember what she looked like in that picture now. My fath– well, the man she married, he couldn’t do it alone. Raising me must have been tough because he dropped me off at the orphanage when I turned 4. I don’t remember too much… but it was my birthday. I thought he was taking me to a playdate. I kept asking this woman when he’ll be back to pick me up. Because I was done playing and was tired. I wanted to go home. Eventually, I learnt that he’s not coming back for me. I don’t know if she told me or I just knew or how any of that happened. Growing up, I thought it was my fault. If I weren’t born, _eomma_ would have lived. Or if I were less troublesome, he would have kept me around. I don’t recall his face now. Nor his voice. I only remember the feeling…”

“Ji Pyeong—“ she stutters, filled to the brim with an unnamable emotion.

“Don’t—don’t say anything. Let me finish…” He takes a steadying breath, and just as monotonously, continues, like he’s reporting the facts of the case.

“I was an angry kid. A loner. Not approachable. I did well enough at school that the teachers didn't bother me but occasionally, I'd get into fights. Someone would say something stupid about me being an orphan and I would lose it. Well, that didn’t change after all these years I suppose. But I was 15 and—I—there was this… kid. One other kid in school. Two years older than me and lived a few rows down from the orphanage. We’d bump into each other on the way to school and somehow… we became… something like… sort of friends? Well, this was a couple of years before I met you.”

He keeps quiet for a long while, considering how much to reveal.

He sighs, “I wasn’t a good person, _eomma._ Just take my word for it. I don’t think I will ever… it’s just—there’s something in me that I just can’t change no matter how hard I try. But then Dal Mi came along and she never knew me for who I was at the time. She thought the world of me, made me out to be kinder than I was in reality. And… her letters made me feel like I could become somebody else if I wanted to. That there was a chance to start over.”

She hums. “Tell me. What happened?”

“You don’t really want to know.”

“I do…”

“Things ended between us… I did something unforgivable.”

“What did you do?”

“I’m not sure I want you to know… I don’t—I can’t afford losing you too.”

He closes his eyes, holding his breath.

“Good boy ah, trusting me has got to be a lot less terrifying than this loneliness you’re carrying inside of you. Let it out. I can handle it. I’ve been through a lot in life, you know?”

He swallows the trepidation and continues, “It was a boy. The other kid, he was a boy…in his senior year, about to graduate, girls swooning over him… he had a good life. Adored by teachers and admired by all the other kids. He was popular in school… And then I came along, things got complicated. And I turned his life into hell.”

“Did you—“ Ms Choi starts.

He interrupts, “Yes.”

“Was it love?”

“For me, it was.”

“If you loved someone, then there's nothing you could have done that is so unforgivable. You were so young…”

He sniffs, still disbelieving that Ms Choi isn’t repulsed by him. He gasps as the tears start falling and he can’t seem to restrain himself anymore. He didn’t expect that from her. Maybe, if not revulsion, at least coldness. But instead, she’s still here, still thinking he is worthy of her kindness.

Almost spiteful that she wouldn’t concede, he continues despite trembling all over, “He said he loved me but he only wanted me around when there’s no one else near him. He would hardly acknowledge me at school but he’d wait for me at the corner of the intersection I’d take to go back to the orphanage. We had a hide out near there, a halted construction site… We’d stop by and talk for hours. He promised… said he’d take care of me, be with me… but nobody else can know. We met everyday and no one really knew anything but one time… we were…” he clears his throat uncomfortably.

This will be the straw that breaks the camel’s back, he thinks. “We were—kissing. He was upset about something his father said and I was trying to make him feel better. I had taken off his shirt… It was obvious that we were more than friends. But usually, there’s no one in that area. It’s a gated compound, but some boys had jumped over the fence, wanting to get drunk in a hidden place. They caught us and the news spread all over school.”

He waits with bated breath, expecting Ms Choi to finally surrender but she just hums in response. “Then?”

“Then?” he laughs bitterly. “Then… the whole school turned against us, teachers too. I was always an outcast so I got used to the bullying. Teachers scolded me, telling me not to ruin his life. He… well, he wasn’t used to being treated that way. So, in school, he stopped me at the corridor in front of his friends, and so many other kids, pushed me against the wall and shouted at me. Called me an orphan, said that I smelled like a dumpster all the time, that they must ration out water and soap where I live… that he wouldn’t be caught dead kissing me. He said… he said I forced myself on him, he was just being nice to me and I, being the loner that I am, misinterpreted it and… well… he made it pretty convincing. Everyone loved him, they would take his word for it. And I got in trouble with the school board. Between the two of us, they were more willing to expel me. But I needed school more than he did. His dad was rich. I depended on my grades to make anything of myself…

“He stopped me after school, begged me, fell to his knees, asking that I take the fall for him this time. That he loved me and he was sorry for the mess but he just couldn’t have his father hearing otherwise…The next day, the parents were called in for a meeting. My social worker was there too. A lot of things was said about me. The woman, my social worker, I guess she was trying to help but she mentioned that my father had left me behind unexpectedly, that perhaps the lack of a good father figure had made me sick. That they’d send me to counselling, maybe take the year off without it going on my school record. He—instead of taking my side, he gave credence to that accusation. Told them the things I’ve told him in secret, the intrusive thoughts I’ve had about wanting to end my life at times, how sometimes I wish I could disappear... I lost it. I lost my temper. I pulled out all the love letters he ever wrote to me and showed it to his parents and the principal. If I were going to be sent to counselling, I wanted revenge, to have him dragged there with me. But… he didn’t show up to school anymore. I heard from a teacher that his father beat him so hard, he broke a few rib bones and ended up in the hospital. That his father was taken into custody and interrogated for child abuse.

“The teacher wanted me to know because he wanted me to repent. To change. To grow up normal. He was more sympathetic of the father than the boy. The thing is… I knew about his father’s temper… He had shown me the bruises before. So, I knew what the man was capable of… but I did it anyway. I was vengeful and I wanted him to suffer with me. Now, I don’t even know what happened to him. If things at home ever got better or if he was taken away from his parents—because of me. I know what it’s like, being a statistic in the system, being too old for adoption and too young for emancipation, to have no parents and nowhere to go. I know what broken bones feel like, to be treated like you’re less than human because of shitty fathers. But still… I turned around and passed that suffering onto someone else… someone I loved… And I loved him deeply until that moment. If I could do that to someone I was in love with, what else am I capable of?”

“You were in pain—“

“Doesn’t excuse it.”

“Yes but it doesn’t make you bad either. It makes you human. This isn’t your fault.”

“Of course it is. It’s not _his_ fault. He was trying to save himself from his father.”

“No, but it’s his father’s fault. And his mother’s fault. For not protecting the child. For being abusive. For so many monstrous reasons. But you? No… this is not on you. You are good. You had always been given the short end of the stick but still, you raised yourself to be good. You deserve to be happy, Ji Pyeong. You deserve it more than most. Forgive yourself. Nobody else holds it against you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please share your thoughts with me. it gets lonely up in here


	6. Chapter 6

Ji Pyeong stirs awake at the sound of a knock. With eyes barely open, he looks around for his phone to check the time. 2.15 am. There’s no way anybody’s looking for him at this hour. Least of all in San Francisco where the only people who know him are the very people who want nothing to do with him. Must be the neighbour’s door, he thinks.

He yawns widely, pulls the blanket over his head and is about to fall asleep once more when the knocks get louder and more insistent. It still doesn’t register that it might be for him.

Not until he hears a voice call out. “Mr Han Ji-Pyeong! It’s me, Kim Yong-San. Please... open the door.”

Ji Pyeong is startled by the announcement, immediately jumps up and attends to the door. Just as he opens it, a leaden weight leans against him and he stumbles back, trying to regain his balance.

He almost falls on his ass before he pushes back at the weight, hearing Yong-San muttering, “Oh shit, sorry, sorry. He’s much heavier than he looks.”

Do San pushes at the two men and stumbles towards the bed, face-planting himself and letting out a grateful sigh before promptly falling asleep.

“He’s—he’s just had a little too much to drink,” Yong-San says, scratching his neck.

Ji Pyeong raises an eyebrow, “Really? Didn’t notice.”

Yong-San looks away like he’s chastised. He tries again, “It’s just—the court date has been set. He has 32 days-- no, 31 now-- to prepare for his hearing. So—he’s not in a good place.”

Ji Pyeong nods understandingly.

Yong-San continues, “You know what that means right?”

“Yes…”

“CIS may show up any day so there’s really no time to—“

“I know, Mr Kim Yong-San. I am well aware. _I_ didn’t chase him out of here. I came here to help, remember?” Ji Pyeong says tersely, frustrated with how things are going.

“Yeah, yeah, I—yeah,” Yong-San finishes lamely.

Ji Pyeong knows that the younger man is merely worried so he reins back the exasperation and adds patiently, “Look, I’ll talk to him in the morning. We’ll come up with a plan. It’s my ass on the line too now. So, I’ll figure it out. You don’t have to worry—“

“That’s all the more reason to worry, don’t you think?”

Ji Pyeong sighs, “If you’re staying longer, you might as well come in and shut the door. I can’t stand the cold breeze.”

The older man walks to the kitchen, now already familiar with the space to move without turning on a light. Yong-San follows him quietly.

“Tea?” Ji Pyeong asks.

“No, that’s alright,” Yong-San says, removing his jacket and blowing warmth into his hands.

“I’ll make for myself then…”

“Uh… in that case, if you’re already making it…”

Ji Pyeong’s back is turned towards Yong-San and he can’t help but roll his eyes fondly and smile a little. It’s been a while since he’s seen Yong-San. And despite the persistent guilt he carries on his shoulders after Yong-San blamed him for his brother’s death, he likes the way success hangs on the boy—no, man. He looks a lot calmer now. Not as jittery and angry with the world.

As he waits for the water to boil, he hears Yong-San shift uncomfortably.

“I—I’m sorry, Mr Han. I—yeah. This is too little too late but yeah.”

“Hmmm?” Ji Pyeong asks, looking over his shoulder. “For what?”

“For this mess I’ve made.”

Ji Pyeong raises his eyebrows, clueless.

“I—come on. I’m the reason why, I know that, okay? You tried to stop them from signing with 2STO and I didn’t let you. And now… all is lost and my best friend might end up in jail because of me…”

Ji Pyeong pours the hot water on the tea bags and brings over the mugs to Yong-San. He doesn’t look at the younger man’s face but he says, “You think too highly of yourself still, I see.”

When he hears the boy choke over the cup of tea, he looks him in the eye and reassures, “You’re _not_ the reason why all these happened. It just did. Nobody could have predicted foul play--”

“But _you_ did,” says Yong-San, putting down the mug. “You knew something was wrong. You tried to stop it and I didn't listen—“

“Well, I obviously didn’t try too hard then. So, this is not on you. I made this mess, I’ll clean it up.”

He startles when he feels Yong-San reach over and grip his wrist, “You’ve always been cleaning up after us, Mr Han. I’m sorry I didn’t acknowledge it before. You have no idea how thankful I am that you’re helping us again—“

Ji Pyeong tugs his hand free, smiling slightly, “Alright, you’ve had some to drink as well, huh?”

“No, actually. I’m sober. I’m the designated driver.”

“Yeah, well, alright. Drink your tea and go home. I’m tired.”

Yong-San takes a few silent sips before saying, “Mr Han, I know you don’t want to hear it. Hell, I wouldn’t want to hear it either, coming from me after everything. It’s just—I’m much better at understanding the business world now… and I realise… you were not wrong. My brother—he was already in a bad place. There was a lot of pressure for him to succeed. But it’s not on you. If anything, it’s on me… and my parents—“

Ji Pyeong shakes his head, face growing redder by the second, “I know what I said. I know it was a justified line of questioning. But I just—I should have said it better. Kinder… he deserved that much. I just—I have no excuse. And I’m the one who owes you an apology. I couldn’t bring myself to admit it then… I couldn’t… I was afraid by what that meant. But I’ve been carrying this weight for a while now, so I might as well... I’m sorry for what I did. I’m so sorry—if I could turn back time… there's nothing I wouldn't give... No one should have to lose their life like that. Least of all because of someone like me.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and slyly swipes at his eyes, afraid to look up.

Yong-San sighs deeply, “Life is funny, isn’t it? A couple of years back, I strangled you-- I was furious. I wanted more than anything to hurt you, to see you regret every word you’ve ever uttered. I was so convinced that it was your fault. Now, I’m here, asking for your forgiveness, knowing full well you were just caught in the crossfire. But now you’re convinced it’s all on you… How do I keep fucking shit up?”

Ji Pyeong smiles bitterly, “I ask myself that a dozen times a day. And then, I find more creative ways to fuck things up,” Ji Pyeong gestures vaguely at Do-San. “I don’t think I’d ever figure it out, to be honest.”

“Really? I—I’ve never heard you sound unsure of yourself.”

Ji Pyeong looks up with a raised eyebrow, “There’s more to a man than his fancy suits, you know? If you’re going to call me a privileged bastard who got the whole world handed to him, don’t bother. Your friend there has done it enough times for all of you.”

“That’s not—I’m not saying… It’s just, you’ve always seemed so infallible. So self-assured. You always said what’s on your mind without thinking twice.”

Ji Pyeong lightly slams his palm on the table, swallowing the tea in his mouth, “Exactly the problem, don’t you see? I thought I valued honesty the most. I thought—well… I’ve hurt people by lying... instead of protecting them like I intended to. And I know what it feels like to be lied to, to be made a fool of. I thought if I always said what I truly meant, I would save everyone the pain in the long run. But…I guess, lately I’m realising that I’ve ruined more lives by being honest. No, not honest. Being cruel.”

He doesn’t know why he’s saying what he’s saying. And of all people, why is he saying this to Yong-San? Maybe it’s the midnight fatigue, maybe it’s the foreignness of the city… most likely, it’s just age and loneliness. He’s fucking tired. He just wants to do one thing right. At least this one thing.

“So, here I am. Lying again, pretending to be married to him when he can barely look at me without wanting to throw a goddamn punch,” he looks towards Do-San’s slumbering figure. “I don’t believe in a God but sometimes, you know… when there’s nothing else to believe in…So, if somebody’s up there taking note, if I could just…” he sighs. “I just need this one thing to go right. Then I’ll get out of everyone’s hair for once and for all. I promised Ms Choi I'd save Noongil. And I gave my word to Dal Mi that I’d get Do San out of this mess. I am only as good as my word.”

“You’re good… in spite of your word. You’re doing more for all of us than anyone can expect of you. Nobody’s going to blame you if things go downhill. It will be on me. I started this--”

“Stop. There’s enough self-pity for a lifetime, between the two of us.”

They both share a quiet laughter.

Ji Pyeong clears his throat and says seriously, “We’re not going to let anything go downhill. We’ll figure this out.”

Yong-San nods, energized by the determination.

“Your job now is to get Do-San to play along. Let me handle the rest.”

Yong-San nods again, worried about the monumental task ahead.

“Tell him that Dal Mi is still in love with him. He’ll want to get this sorted out quickly so he can run back into her arms,” Ji Pyeong says.

“Are you not with—“

Ji Pyeong shakes his head. “No. God, no.”

“Even after all these years?”

Ji Pyeong smiles, “ _Especially_ after all these years. It’s time I move on and let the chips fall where they may.”

“You’ll find someone else, I’m sure,” Yong-San says confidently.

Ji Pyeong rolls his eyes. He doesn’t mention that he has entirely given up on all that and has made do with what life has allotted for him. He has Ms Choi. He has a job he’s good at. A house in his name to live out the rest of his life. That’s so much more than what he had wished for when he walked out of that orphanage with a check he can’t cash.

“Now, get out already. I’m sleepy.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now... finally... let us begin

Ji Pyeong wakes up bleary eyed and confused when he feels a steady weight and warmth against his shoulder. He blinks a few times, tries to move him arm and finds it pinned underneath him. He lifts his head and… Do-San is snoring softly, face pressed against Ji Pyeong’s chest. And really, it’s not his fault, he didn’t mean to react that way but the sight of Do-San’s sleeping face so close to his was a jolt to his system. He shoves Do-San off of him and rises so quickly that Do-San is woken up rudely, expediting the headache he was bound to suffer after last night’s binge drinking.

Do-San groans in pain, pressing against his eyeballs as they throb. Ji Pyeong, used to sleeping with the curtains aside, had to be courteous enough to get up and shut them.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Do-San mutters, clenching his teeth.

“Haishh… stop whining. I didn’t force alcohol down your throat.”

In spite of the supposed indifference, Ji Pyeong does get up to bring Do-San a tall glass of water and a couple of painkillers. The younger man glares at him like he wishes to disintegrate the being before him with psychokinesis but he swallows the pills dutifully and falls back into bed with a wince.

Ji Pyeong quickly fixes breakfast for the two of them, knowing he needs today to start well, with Do-San onboard with his plan. Otherwise, they’re both doomed in this fiasco. He scrambles an extraordinary amount of eggs and spinach knowing how big an appetite the younger man has, toasts some bread, heats a can of baked beans and makes a banana-honey smoothie. This is his well-known trick for curing hangovers. He wakes Do-San up with the smoothie, bends over as the younger man sleeps with half his body in bed and the other on the floor, only to have the younger man kick at his ankle to go away, mumbling something about being a pain in the ass.

Ji Pyeong leaves the smoothie on the floor next to his head and says, “Drink it. You have 10 minutes to gulp it down or I’m letting the light in.”

Do-San cracks his eyes open and puts a middle finger up. Ji Pyeong pushes the curtains aside for a second, threatening the man wordlessly. When he comes back after 10 minutes, the glass is empty and Do-San is lying on the bed, eyes swollen but open.

Ji Pyeong pulls the blanket off of him. “Get up, food’s getting cold.”

“Fuck off,” Do-San says so quietly that it carries no real venom. He just looks like he’s been run over by a truck.

“You have only one month left. You want to waste it away, feeling sorry for yourself, be my guest. But the way I see it, you’re going to have plenty of time in prison to do that anyway.”

He walks off before the younger man could get a word in. About half an hour later, Do-San shows up, freshly showered, eyes still red and fatigued. He sits opposite of Ji Pyeong, pulling at the plate set before him.

“You’re welcome,” says Ji Pyeong, hiding a small smile when Do-San wordlessly stuffs his face, only to pause a second to give him the middle finger.

“You woke me up in the worst way possible, the fuck…” Do-San mumbles, rubbing his temples.

“Not my fault you were using me like a pillow. I’m not used to waking up, being pinned down--”

“It _is_ your fault cause that’s _my_ bed and I was fucking sleeping in it. You should have taken the couch. That’s what normal people do… But you’ve never been normal.”

“Have _you_ slept on your own damn couch? I can feel the springs stabbing my spinal column,” Ji Pyeong dismisses. “And seriously, can’t you afford a bed frame? Why are you sleeping with a bed on the floor like a college student on a budget?”

“Oh sorry, forgot about your stately lifestyle,” Do-San rolls his eyes.

“Oh well, if you are so accustomed to discomfort and a life of poverty anyway -what with Samsan Tech having such a modest start and all- surely you wouldn’t mind sleeping on the couch? I’ll just sleep in bed, thanks.”

“The last I checked, this is my apartment? Not yours?” Do-San says, getting up for a mug of tea.

“The last I checked, I didn’t show up here for my entertainment. So, will you quit whining already?” Ji Pyeong chastises.

The younger man slams the mug down, spilling a little hot tea over the sides, and sits, staring adamantly at Ji Pyeong, “Nobody fucking asked you to come here.”

“You didn’t have to because somebody else did,” Ji Pyeong says, raising an eyebrow.

Anger leaves Do-San’s face to replace it with something else. Something scarier. Like hurt.

“That’s between you and them. Not my problem.”

Ji Pyeong knows what he’s thinking. Had this been a year ago, Ji Pyeong would have played along, rubbed salt on the wound, pissed him off for the heck of it. But now, he has come to terms with the fact that he’s the bigger fool between the two. No point dragging it out longer just to thoroughly humiliate himself later.

“Actually, no. That’s between _you_ and Dal Mi,” he says, glaring. “But you made it my problem when Noongil got suspended. So, you don’t get to sit around and sulk, no. You need to snap out of it and figure out how to fix this for Ms Choi.”

“Yeah… you’re— right, I—“ Do-San sighs, rubbing his eyes. “How’s she doing by the way?”

“Dal Mi? She’s the CEO of Cheongmyeong now, working with Injae com—“

Do-San interrupts with a hand up, “I wasn’t asking about her. I meant Ms Choi.”

Ji Pyeong is taken aback by that and he halts his speech. He looks into Do-San’s eyes and is surprised to find a determined gaze, staring back.

“I… she’s—“ he breathes. “She says she’s well. She’s got Seon Mi looking after her…”

“But?” Do-San asks.

“No buts. She’s coping,” Ji Pyeong shrugs.

“But that’s not good enough,” Do-San says, clenching his fist.

“Yes,” Ji Pyeong concedes. “It’s not.”

“What are your thoughts on this?” Do-San asks seriously.

“Huh?”

“Just—obviously, if you’re here because of her, you’re worried about something. What is it? I need to know what’s on the line if I fail at this. I need to know so I can’t fail... again.”

“The threat of imprisonment’s not enough to motivate you?” Ji Pyeong huffs.

Do-San stares back, unflinching. “What’s at stake, Mr Han?”

“Ji Pyeong.”

“Wha—“

“You can’t go around calling me Mr Han anymore. Not unless you want to blow your cover—“

Do-San exasperatedly utters, “Okay! Ji Pyeong! Spit it out already…”

Ji Pyeong exhales loudly. “At her age… coping with the blindness is one thing. But she has worked all her life. Now she’s at home, unable to do anything without help. She doesn’t quite have a purpose to wake up in the morning. She’s been calling me every day too, hours at a time. So…I’m more afraid of depression actually. Loneliness will kill her sooner than anything else. And I can’t—I won’t let that happen. So, yeah… I’m worried.”

Do-San nods, looking away.

“And if you need more reasons… Dal Mi is waiting for you to—“

“No, I don’t need more reasons,” Do-San says, carrying both his and Ji Pyeong’s plate to the kitchen to wash.

He continues without turning back, “Thanks for the breakfast. You’re actually… not a bad cook.”

Ji Pyeong laughs, “Will it kill you to admit that I am fantastic at something?”

“It just might,” Do-San says, looking over his shoulder with a smirk. “So… what’s the plan now?”

“Plan?”

“You obviously got something in mind. Where do you propose we start?” Do-San says, wringing his wet hands before wiping them on his shirt.

“I proposed. That’s already the start.”

At Do-San’s confusion, Ji Pyeong rolls his eyes and explains, “The last thing you need is me on the stand. Although I know you’re innocent and I can vouch for it, they will grind it down to the bare facts of the case. You turned down my investment – which is already suspicious given I’m your mentor and the senior manager of South Korea’s largest investment company. And now… they can’t know the reason why. And you went out of your way to beg Alex to take you onboard, you came to San Fran even after they let Dal—hmm-- your CEO go. So, all that may prove premeditation on your part to take over the operations of Noongil and—“

“Yeah, yeah, I know how this looks. Cut to it. What’s the plan?” Do-San asks.

“So, marrying me was the primary plan,” Ji Pyeong finishes lamely.

“Spousal privilege, you already convinced me of that weeks ago. So, what’s next?”

Ji Pyeong rolls his eyes, “What do you think, moron?”

“Wha—“

“They’re obviously not going to buy it so easily. The Immigration Services are gonna put us through the wringer until they get to the bottom of it. So, we gotta have our tracks covered.”

“Yes, okay… Ya, that makes sense,” Do-San says, thinking.

Ji Pyeong brings his laptop to the table. “I made a list of the things we need to do to convince them. Here…”

Do-San turns the laptop around and reads the list out loud.

USCIS

  1. Know everything about each other for the private interviews
  2. Make up an origin story
  3. Corroborate with evidence (testimony from coworkers? Will that count as perjury?)
  4. Erase all evidence of Nam Do-San having had a serious romantic relationship with Dal Mi—



Do-San stops, not reading further. “Num 4 is covered on my end. We just need everyone else in on it.”

“What do you mean?” Ji Pyeong asks, curious.

“I don’t have anything of hers anymore. My parents—Chul San, Yong San, won’t say anything about that. Oh, and you obviously can’t say anything now. So, we need Sa-Ha on board. And Ms Choi and-- and… everyone in her family and some key people at Sandbox to be clear on this.”

Ji Pyeong must have looked suspicious because Do-San zones in on him, “Why? Is that going to be a problem?”

“Hmmm…” he clears his throat. “Just that—they don’t know… About the marriage thing? I didn’t tell them.”

“Huh?— but you said you talk to Ms Choi everyday--” Do-San starts.

“It didn’t come up.”

“How could it not come up? What does she think you’re doing in San Francisco? Vacationing?” Do-San asks incredulously.

“No, of course she knows I’m here… to help you. But she doesn’t know how I’m doing it.”

“Okay, then, call her up and brief her on it—“

“It’s not that easy—“

Do-San gets increasingly agitated, “None of this shit is easy. I’m facing imprisonment. She’s lost her sight—I think she would bloody well expect this to be anything but easy, don’t you think?!”

Ji Pyeong clears his throat, “So what? You’re okay with Dal Mi knowing we are officially, legally what—married to each other?! You think that’s not going to fuck things up forever?”

Do-San leans forward, face twisting in anger, “If _that’_ s your concern, you shouldn’t have started this in the first place. Now it’s too fucking late, so you and your girlfriend could deal with your crisis when Noongil isn’t at stake. How ‘bout that?”

“Wait—what? Girlfriend?” Ji Pyeong laughs incredulously. “Is that what this is about? You think I’m with Dal Mi? And _that’s_ what worries me?”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” Do-San replies, eyes narrowing.

“You really _are_ an idiot then.”

Do-San rolls his eyes and crosses his arms defensively, “I am. I really am. Cause I shouldn’t have gotten myself mixed up between the two of you from the get-go. So, yeah… Idiot is an understatement.”

That sobers Ji Pyeong up. He knows pain when he sees it and he’s tired of having to see it.

“She’s not my girlfriend. Nor will she ever be. I just meant… how would she react to you? I thought I knew her but this… this is unchartered territory. So, do you think she’ll be okay with that? To pretend like she’s nothing to you…And of all people, to have me in that place. It’s complicated enough on its own but me being a man on top of everything—just-- doesn’t that sound insane?”

Do-San clears his throat and places his hands on the table before calmly but sternly saying, “Maybe I haven’t made this clear to you… I don’t care what she thinks of me now. None of this is sane. We’re way past all that. Do what you must so we can check this off the list.”

“Do what _I_ must? I’m not going to be the one to break the news. Not to Dal Mi, at least.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because—it just makes more sense coming from you. You’re the one with—I don’t know—You share a history with her.”

“Technically, I knew her for four months and you knew her for 15 years—“ Do-San rebuts.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Ji Pyeong laughs, clenching his teeth in irritation. “Are you doing this to get a rise out of me?”

“Are you?!”

“Ah, you piece of sh—“ Ji Pyeong groans before getting up to stand before the floor-to-ceiling window of the apartment, avoiding his own reflection as he stares blankly at it.

He continues in a hushed tone, “You’re the one she’s in love with, okay? Is that what you want to hear me say? To accept defeat? Is that it? There, I’ve said it. You win! She chose you. She’d probably still choose you now. Can you stop being an asshole and just—“

“No, she didn’t. It’s not me she was in love with…” Do-San replies just as quietly.

He looks up with a sad smile and continues, “You know, I asked her what she liked about me. She said the letters. But that wasn’t me… that was you. So, I asked again, what else? She said the reassuring company I gave her when she needed it. Again, not me. I asked again and again, she named half a dozen things. All of them, you. Not me. She finally said she liked my hand, how big they were against hers.”

He puts his hands up and stretches his fingers for Ji Pyeong to see. “That’s it. My hand… That’s all I had. Anyone can offer a hand to hold, but they can’t be you. No matter how hard they try.”

Ji Pyeong turns away from Do-San’s gaze, “That may have been true _before_ she knew who wrote the letters. But even after, she still wanted to be with you. Even in your absence, I’m not the one she wants. Trust me, I’ve tried…”

Do-San asks quietly, “Is she…is she still the one you want?”

“She was until a few months ago. But… not anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Do-San asks.

“I don’t know, just doesn’t feel right. She didn’t outright reject me but it feels like she should have. I don’t—I just… I won’t be someone’s afterthought. Not anymore. And I think _eomma_ —Ms Choi—she would advise me not to settle for less. Not if I want to do right by me.”

Do-San nods slowly, “Good for you…”

“And you?” Ji Pyeong asks.

“What?”

“Is she still the one—“

“No.”

“Really?”

Do-San nods.

“But…why?” Ji Pyeong asks, genuinely baffled.

“I don’t want to be a poor substitute either… I—I don’t think she knew me enough to love me… for who I was. She knew what I showed her--and what I showed her was what I knew she wanted from me. Nothing less, nothing more. And maybe, just like her, I too was in a delusion…”

“Delusion?” Ji Pyeong asks, eyebrows raised.

“I fell for her when I read the correspondence between the two of you. It wasn’t about who she was. It’s… who she was through _your_ eyes. I wanted to be like you in many ways-- and I wanted to be with her but I couldn’t tell… I don’t know which one came first. I looked up to you at the time, hero worshipped you when I read your interviews, sent you a dozen emails with business proposals. Maybe, somewhere along the line, when you gave me the option, I took it because I could pretend to be you for a day. After that, it was appealing to think that I could still have all that love she was willing to offer so easily to you… and back then, I deluded myself into thinking it was meant to be. She was my first love, after all. But… it wasn’t meant for me. And I don’t want it...not anymore. I want to be me, my own person… to see the world through my eyes again. Not yours. And not hers.”

Ji Pyeong nods, stunned into silence. “I—I’m sorry…”

“Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> had to get dal mi out of the way first :P Let me know your thoughts! I live for your comments!


	8. Chapter 8

Ji-pyeong has been pacing for a little over an hour, bracing himself to call Ms Choi. He has no idea why this is suddenly daunting. She knows everything there is to know about him already. He has done far more humiliating things for far less excusable reasons. But somehow, her knowing the past makes this conversation more difficult. The words still catch at his throat despite it all. He’s only ever consciously discussed his sexuality with her. He doesn’t let himself think about it otherwise, not even to himself. He doesn’t like labels because something about being one or the other terrifies him. The world may be changing quickly but in his mind, he's still 15 and afraid sometimes. There is still a lot of pain associated with what it means to be a boy who loves another boy. He knows, rationally, that there’s nothing wrong or corrupt about it. But there are nights that he still wakes up out of breath, dreaming about the boy he once loved, gurgling blood as his father hits him. All for loving Ji-pyeong, a kid that wasn’t worth anybody’s time or affection.

What would he say? _Eomma, remember I said I’d help Do-San? Well, I had to marry him to do that. It’s just very complicated to explain. But I just want you to know that this has nothing to do with the thing I told you about before. So, please don’t tell him about it. I don’t want him to think I am using this as an excuse of some sort to take advantage of him._

That’s it, isn’t it? That's what makes this difficult. Do-San seems uncaring about this whole affair because as far as he is concerned, Ji-pyeong is straight. How would he feel when he discovers otherwise? Will he be disgusted? Will he resort to punching him again? Or worse, will he be afraid of sharing a room with Ji-pyeong? Not that Ji-pyeong is in any way interested in him. Until a month back, he could have lived without ever seeing the younger man again. But… still.

Do-san comes out of the shower and catches sight of a rather distraught looking Ji-pyeong.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t called her yet--”

Ji-pyeong glares at him before shoving the phone in his hand, “Why don't you call and tell her yourself?”

Do-San rolls his eyes and passes the phone back, “She’s your _eomma…_ You tell her everything, so why not this? _”_

Ji-pyeong stares wide-eyed.

“What?” Do-San asks, drying his hair with a towel.

“What do you—what are you talking about?”

“Huh? When you were talking about her earlier, you called her _eomma._ You’re close to her, no? _”_

“Ah…” Ji-pyeong exhales in relief. “Yes, that… Ya, I am.”

“One day or another, you’re going to have to tell me what you owe her,” Do-san says.

“Who said I owe her anything?” Ji-pyeong brusquely changes the topic. “Anyway, why is it that I have to do all the hard work around here? You sit around doing nothing.”

Do-san rolls his eyes, takes a sheet of paper from a drawer, and passes it to Ji-pyeong.

“I’m one step ahead, asshole.”

> **Biodata**
> 
> **Name: Nam Do-San**
> 
> **Age: 30**
> 
> **DOB: 22 nd June 1991**
> 
> **Father: Nam Sung-hwan (Head Security Officer)**
> 
> **Mother: Park Geum-jung (Stay-at-home Mum)**
> 
> **Moved from Seongdong to Gwanak at 10 years old. Then to Daejeon for undergrad.**
> 
> **Education: Hanyang University (2001- 1 sem – Mathematical Science), Gwanak Middle School (2002-2005), Inhun High School (2005-2007), Korea Advanced Institute of Science and Technology (KAIST) – BSc Comp Science and Engineering– Specialised in Mathematical Aspects of Machine Learning and Deep Learning AI**
> 
> **Work experience: Intern at XiXi Engineering, Founder and Lead Engineer at Samsan Tech, CTO Samsan Tech (Sandbox), CEO Samsan Tech (2STO)**
> 
> **Likes: Coding, knitting, crocheting, embroidery, electronic circuit projects, puzzles, rubiks cube, nanoblocks, collecting figurines and comic books**
> 
> **Dislikes: Sales and marketing, pineapple on pizza, reading news/non fic, cooking, avocados, bright lights (close the curtains before sleeping!), being underestimated by egocentric jerks**
> 
> **Favourite activities: Cycling, generally any sports, hanging out with friends, cracking a code, watching movies**
> 
> **Allergy: Dust mites, certain types of crabs**
> 
> **Medical history: Asthma**

Han Ji-pyeong reads and snorts incredulously. “Sorry, we’re not hiring at the moment.”

“Shut up. That's the cheat-sheet for the most basic details about me. Memorise it and then burn it. And write yours down too. But first, Ms Choi…get cracking!”

“Haishhh… you’re way more trouble than I imagined.”

“Good. Stop underestimating me then,” Do-san says, smiling slightly.

Ji-Pyeong shoves the note into the pocket of his pants and wrings his hands, getting hyped up to call Ms Choi. Do-san is right, they need to check things off their list. He video calls Ms Choi because he needs to see her reaction. He’s self-sabotaging like that.

“Hello? Good boy?”

“Haisshh, stop calling me that,” he says in a hushed voice when he hears Do-san snort loudly at the nickname, almost choking on the water he is sipping on.

“Good boy? Really?” Do-san asks.

“Ai, is that Nam Do-san there?”

The two of them look at each other bewildered. Do-san shakes his head, indicating to Ji-pyeong that he doesn’t want to speak on the phone.

The older man grins dangerously, “Yes, e _omma._ You want to speak to him?”

“Yes, of course. Give the phone to him.”

Do-san glares at him, putting down his glass of water on the coffee table and sitting next to Ji-pyeong.

“Ms Choi, hello.”

“Do-san, ah, how are you? It’s been so long since I’ve last heard your voice. Do you still look the same? Have you grown more?”

At that, Do-san’s eyes begin to water but he clears his throat, “I look the same…And you look as beautiful as ever.”

“Haishhh stop that,” she says, blushing and laughing.

“Do you want to talk to Dal Mi? She’s upstairs. Wait, let me call—“

“No, no,” Do-san rushes. “Thank you, Ms Choi but no…”

She frowns a little, staring blankly at the vicinity of her phone camera, “Why?”

“I—it’s okay. I don’t want to bother her. Mr Han—I mean—Ji-pyeong called you to tell you something so I’ll leave you to it—“

“Yes, okay…” she says hesitantly, before piping up again, “Do-san ah, one moment. You still there?”

“Yes, Ms Choi.”

“I—if you don’t mind me asking… because understandably I feel the need to protect Dal Mi from more heartache, you see…”

“Yes, Ms Choi, I understand. What is it?”

Ji-pyeong gets off the couch to give them some semblance of privacy although the place has no rooms for him to hide in.

“She’s expecting a call from you. So… was just wondering if you would call her a bit later to—“

“No… sorry.”

“Hmmm...You’ve moved on?” she smiles sadly.

“I don’t—I just—I don’t intend to start anything I won’t be able to see to the end. So, if you’d be ever so kind to just pretend like you didn’t hear from me, that would be good for everyone, I think… Also-- I’m so sorry, Ms Choi. For everything. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. If I could change the way things are with Noongil, there’s nothing I wouldn’t give to get it back and running--” his voice cracks as she smiles back at the camera.

“I see… Good Boy has rubbed off on you too, huh? That’s all he says every day. Sorry for this, sorry for that… Haisshh, I don’t know what’s worse. The blindness or the relentless pity.”

“I—“ Do-san is about to apologise again but manages to stop in time.

“Nobody’s pitying you,” Ji-pyeong announces loudly before falling back on the couch to grab the phone. “What’s there to pity? You have everything a person can desire. So what if you’re blind? You have a loving family, a beautiful house, your daughter-in-law is running your business from home, you have me… what is there to pity?”

“Exactly what I’ve been saying, Good Boy. I don’t need anything else at this age. I’ve seen enough.”

They both laugh softly and Ji-pyeong wipes his eyes surreptitiously.

“ _Eomma_ , I have got something to tell you. Actually both of us do, Do-san and I.”

Do-san immediately turns to him and shakes his head, signaling him to exclude Do-san from this conversation. Ji-pyeong hits Do-san's face with the nearest throw pillow.

“Yes? What is it?” Ms Choi asks.

“I—okay first of all, Do-san is here, next to me… I say that so you know—there’s no room in this apartment. It's tiny. So he can hear us over the speaker…”

Do-san raises his eyebrows now in curiosity as Ms Choi nods, pressing her lips together.

Ji-pyeong ignores Do-san's hand gesture, asking what he is talking about.

He continues solemnly, “So, it’s best that I talk and you merely listen. Okay, _eomma_?”

“Okay. Tell me, Good Boy. What’s on your mind?”

He breathes out, “Remember I told you I’m going to find a way to keep Noongil running?”

“Yes. But more importantly, you have to get Do-san out of trouble—“

“Yes, I know. So… we did something. The lawyers said it was the best way to keep certain incriminating evidence out of reach. Err… you know how if you’re married to someone, the court cannot ask you to testify against them?”

“Really? I didn’t know. How if my husband murdered someone?”

Ji-pyeong laughs, surprised by that. “Unless you want to testify or they have reasons to believe that the marriage is invalid, I don’t think they can force you to the stand.”

“Haishh, if only I knew earlier…”

“Huh? What would you have done?” Ji-pyeong asks, distracted.

“Nothing. Just good to know these things. Not that I have a husband now but back when I did, I might have needed the information, just in case…”

Do-san can’t hold back the laughter and it’s making Ji-pyeong chuckle incredulously too.

“Wah, what else don’t I know about you, huh, e _omma?”_

“Guess you’ll have to find out for yourself,” she replies, laughing. “Okay, go on. You were saying?”

“Err… the problem is… if they call me to testify, it’s going to look bad,” Ji-pyeong hints.

“How so? You’re on his side, no?” she asks.

“Yes but the questions they'd ask would be leading the judge to a false conclusion... that Do-san planned to take over Noongil from Dal Mi so he can make profits out of it. That he colluded with Alex.”

“Can’t you refuse to answer certain questions?” she asks.

“It will make him look guilty still. So, the lawyers don’t think that’s the best way to go about it.”

“Okay. So Do-san has to marry someone?”

“He already has…” Ji-pyeong says, closing his eyes, trying to catch his breath.

“Huh? Who? What--”

“Me. He’s married to me. It’s the only way to elude testifying and it’s all very complicated but legally, we had to—“

“You can get married there? To someone like Do-san?”

“Ya…?” answers Ji-pyeong, unsure what she means.

“Oh good boy, that’s wonderful, no? A man can marry a man there… That’s--”

Ji-pyeong clears his throat loudly to stop her, “Anyway, it’s only temporary until the case is settled. But yes, we are legally married. The thing is I need you and Dal-mi and everyone there, including In-jae, to be clear on this. That if anyone contacts you about this, you can’t tell them this is a marriage of convenience. It has to seem like… you know… we moved to San Francisco particularly for this reason. Like…”

“Like you’re in love with each other?”

Do-san shrugs like a bug crawled on his neck and Ji-pyeong glares at him.

“Yes, something like that.”

“Hmmm… can you wait 2 minutes then? I’ll get Dal-mi on the phone too and you can explain to her what—“

“No!” both Ji-pyeong and Do-san say at once, shocking her a little.

She’s holding a hand to her chest, mumbling obscenities.

Ji-pyeong continues in a calmer voice, “Sorry...It’s just… that’s why I’m telling you, _eomma._ I need _you_ to explain to her.”

“But—I don’t know a lot about—“ Ms Choi resists.

“It’s okay, just do your best. I just… I can’t do it. And neither can Do-san. But it is crucial that everyone is well-informed about what to answer. We will keep you updated about that and I need you to be the person to relay the message. Can you please do that for me, _eomma?_ ”

Ms Choi sighs, “Have I ever said no to you, good boy?”

“Actually, you have. Don’t you remember?” he says, smiling.

“Oh shut up. It wasn’t in my hand. It’s not like you didn’t have my blessing. You just—you should have told me a lot earlier that—“

He interrupts abruptly, “Yes, yes okay, I was just joking. Haishhh…”

She smiles back, “He’s still there?”

“Shush.”

Do-san looks between the two, interacting in their secret codes. He wants to ask but a part of him dreads what the answer would be so he keeps quiet.

That night, Ji-pyeong sleeps on the couch without being asked to.

*****

_29 days left_

When Do-San wakes up, he finds the apartment empty. He goes to make coffee and comes across a sticky note.

> _Working from a café today. Check the microwave for breakfast. Also, check the letter on the coffee table. – Ji-pyeong_

In the microwave, he finds homemade Korean egg rolls, still warm and fluffy. He stuffs one in his mouth, groaning in delight. Han Ji-pyeong can really cook, damn.

Then, he looks for the letter and skims it.

> **Name: Han Ji-pyeong**
> 
> **DOB: May 7 1986 (34 y.o)**
> 
> **Moved a lot. Don’t need to know the details.**
> 
> **Education: Seoul National University, B.Sc. (Research) in Economics, Finance, and Data Analytics (2003-2006); MBA (2008-2010)**
> 
> **Work: A lot. All you need to really know is SH Venture. Started in 2011 as a junior manager.**
> 
> **Likes: reading news and non-fic, underestimating idiots, cooking, pineapple on pizza, avocados, bright morning light**
> 
> **Dislikes: loud music, your couch, answering these early in the morning**
> 
> **Activities: as listed in yours**
> 
> **You know what… just make something up for me and I’ll memorise it and we can pretend it’s true. Deal?**

Do-san reaches for his phone and texts Ji-pyeong:

> Do-san: is this a joke to u?
> 
> Do-san: u get all up in my face
> 
> Do-san: talking big game about me needing to get my shit together & commit to this act
> 
> _Ji-pyeong: What are you on about so early in the morning?_
> 
> Do-san: *picture of the letter*
> 
> _Ji-pyeong: I told you, make something up and I’ll memorise it._
> 
> Do-san: fuck u
> 
> Do-san: seriously
> 
> Do-san: why did I even get into this with u?
> 
> Do-san: should have just tried my luck with the court instead of this bullshit
> 
> Do-San: u're making a fool out of me
> 
> _Ji-pyeong: What? I’m not._
> 
> Do-san: this is just adding to the list of shit I can go to prison for

Ji-pyeong calls him just then, interrupting the angry text he was in the midst of typing.

It sounds like Ji-pyeong is clenching his jaw as he says in a quiet but threatening tone, “What do you want from me? For fuck’s sake, just stop whining and tell me what--”

“Take this seriously, asshole!”

“I _am_ taking this seriously! I fucking left my life behind for this and you think I’m not taking this seriously?”

“A life that you can go back to even if you get deported from here. I don’t have that luxury so just…” Do-san stops, trying to catch his breath but finding it difficult.

“Just what?!”

“I… just… I can’t… breathe."

"What’s happening? Do-san?! Nam Do-san? Answer me.”

All he hears on the other end is laboured breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeee come talk to me backstage!!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV Do-san

Do-san’s still wheezing lightly when the door flings open, giving him yet another fright. But he calms down a little when he sees that it’s only Ji-pyeong. Not the cops or something… or God, bad thought to have in this moment. He tries to clear his head but the tightening of his chest says there’s another attack on its way. He grabs the inhaler he dropped on the coffee table just seconds before Ji-pyeong arrived and inhales two more puffs, closing his eyes. When he opens them again, Ji-pyeong is squatting on the floor near the coffee table with a glass of water in his hand. He is also breathing just as hard, face reddened from exertion and sweat beginning to settle on his forehead.

Do-san wheezes out, seeing the older man’s usually immaculate hair all wind-swept “Did you-- run?”

Ji-pyeong rolls his eyes, exasperated. “No, I teleported. Drink up.”

Do-san reaches for the glass full of water but his hand still trembles and spills a little water over the sides as he gulps. When he’s done drinking, Ji-pyeong takes the glass out of his hand and abruptly moves his hand closer, causing Do-san to move backwards in reflex, pressing against the couch. Ji-pyeong pulls at the long sleeve of his dark blue Henley until it covers half his palm and uses it to wipe the water dripping from Do-san’s chin. To say that it shocks Do-san is an understatement. He just stares blankly back like he’s watching South Korea’s greatest oddity.

But Ji-pyeong barely notices, goes back to the kitchen and remarks casually, “You want some chamomile tea? It helps.”

When Do-san says nothing, he proceeds with boiling water while asking, “Was it your asthma acting up? Any triggers? It can’t be dust; I just vacuumed this place yesterday.”

Again, Do-san is stunned. Firstly, that means Ji-pyeong not only read the list of details but remembered it well enough to assume that’s the reason. And... he’s just taking this whole thing in a stride, going about doing things without being asked to. The only person who comforts him in the same way is his mother. She always knew what to do to calm him down.

Ji-pyeong places the hot, fragrant tea on the table and snaps his fingers in front of Do-san’s face. “Hello? Did you hear me? Gosh, you must be really out of it. Here, sip on this. Then maybe lie down for a bit.”

Do-san says nothing in response, focusing instead on the warmth of the ceramic mug as he cups it and smells the sweet, relaxing scent of chamomile. When he pays attention to his surroundings again, he sees that the curtains are mostly closed, leaving only a dim sliver of light shining through the apartment, and next to him on the couch, he finds his pillow and a blanket folded on top of it. He looks over and sees Ji-pyeong messing about with his laptop and speakers and he’s about to tell him off but instead, he hears a soft melody play from the speakers, a very familiar one.

He turns around incredulously, looking at Ji-pyeong as he stops fiddling with the speakers, “Wait a minute, is that… Studio Ghibli? I know this… uh, Howl’s castle, no?”

Ji-pyeong hums in assent, “Hmmm…just the piano accompaniment.”

Do-san smiles, “I love Studio Ghibli films.”

“I know,” Ji-pyeong says, rolling his eyes.

“Huh, how do you know?”

“Your old laptop, you had stickers on it. Totoro and Calcifer.”

Do-san just gapes at him as Ji-pyeong continues, smiling, “Good to see if you’ve grown up a little. This laptop only has, what, 4 stickers? I like this one…”

He’s pointing at a sticker of a UFO floating in the night sky with the statement, ‘Aliens believe in us.’

Do-san feels like he is staring at an alien himself, one that has abducted Ji-pyeong’s humanly vessel. He didn’t think anyone paid attention to his collection of stickers. What an odd thing to remember? And he has hardly seen the man smile without a glint of arrogance or ridicule. But this time, his smile is genuine and Do-san, for the first time, notices that he has dimples. Ji-pyeong takes his own laptop out of the bag that he must have flung across the room when he urgently opened the door, sits on the dining table and begins typing away.

Do-san asks, interrupting the silence between them, “Why did you come back so soon if you're not done working?”

Ji-pyeong doesn’t look up from his screen, “You were dying.”

Do-san huffs, “Fuck you, I wasn’t.”

“Sounded like it.”

They’re quiet again for a moment before Ji-pyeong asks, “So… what’s the trigger?”

Do-san looks over confused before it registers, “I don’t know. Just happened… Maybe I’m just allergic to the sound of your voice.”

It surprises him when Ji-pyeong chuckles softly. “I don’t think that was your asthma, by the way.”

“It wasn’t a heart attack,” Do-san scoffs.

“But it felt like it, didn’t it?” Ji-pyeong asks knowingly.

Do-san wants to deny it, just for the heck of it, to deny Ji-pyeong from the pleasure of being right all the time. But he is also curious to find out what Ji-pyeong means.

“Yeah… it hurt. Still feels a little tight, actually,” he says, massaging his chest.

“Hmmm… that’s a panic attack. You were stressing about--” Ji-pyeong gestures abstractly, not wanting to say the words out loud himself. “It’s a reasonable response to the situation. You can’t just go on pretending everything’s fine and dandy… At this point, the light at the end of the tunnel feels a little like hellfire. It’s scary. But… we’ll figure it out. I’ll find a way, I promise.”

That makes Do-san suddenly furious again and he picks up the crumpled letter with Ji-pyeong’s details and points at it. “And why would I trust you? You and your half-assed efforts... How would we even pass the interview?”

Ji-pyeong quietly clicks away on his laptop, not looking up and Do-san gives up. He plays games on his phone, listening to Joe Hisaishi’s music. Someday, he’d like to visit Tokyo, he thinks. Visit the Ghibli museum. His high school friend had gone with his family on a vacation to Japan and he claims that the pictures don’t do justice to the real wonder of the place. Do-san is lost in his thoughts, thinking about how expensive or different Japan would be in comparison to South Korea when he hears Ji-pyeong printing.

“Hey, don’t use colour. I’m running out.”

Ji-pyeong clicks his tongue in annoyance. A minute after, he drops the printed pages on Do-san’s lap.

“What’s this?”

Ji-pyeong doesn’t answer, merely packs his bag again and makes his way out the door. He pauses for a second to say, “Don’t die before I get back. Lunch, eat leftovers in the fridge. I'll cook dinner later once I'm back."

He shuts the door, leaving Do-san’s question unanswered.

> **Han Ji-pyeong**
> 
> **May 7 1986 (34 y.o.)**
> 
> **Mother: Hei-ran? Hei-ryung? Not too sure. Died in childbirth**
> 
> **Father: - (Don’t remember. Don’t care to find out)**
> 
> **Moved to :**
> 
>   * **Mokpo Orphanage (4– 10 y.o)**
>   * **Royu Children’s Home (10-12 y.o.)**
>   * **Hae San Home for Boys (13-15 y.o)**
>   * **Jun-ye Boys’ School (15-17 y.o.)**
>   * **after emancipation, lived for almost a year in the basement of Habjeongdon, Mapo District (Ms Choi’s corndog restaurant back then)**
>   * **moved out for undergrad.**
>   * **Rented a room near Sandbox for 5 years until I made senior partner.**
>   * **Then, I withdrew all my savings and paid the deposit for my current apartment facing the Han River (my most valuable asset, just finished paying 3 years ago. But don’t kill me for my inheritance, I’ve named Ms Choi as the beneficiary).**
> 

> 
> **Work**
> 
>   * **cleaning duties in the orphanage (sometimes they give pocket money)**
>   * **waiter**
>   * **tutor**
>   * **helper (mostly looking after the kids in my orphanage at the time for allowance)**
>   * **newspaper delivery boy, etc.**
>   * **At 17, I started investing and day trading and I never did part time again.**
>   * **My first job was as an investment analyst in FGC Investor and Treasury Services. Couldn’t stand the nepotism and office politics so I did my MBA**
>   * **got a job at SH and stayed.**
> 

> 
> **Activities: Exercise and any sports I can play individually (not that I enjoy it but I have to stay active for health reasons)**
> 
> **Likes: Playing piano, cooking, baking (for real)**
> 
> **Dislikes: Fruits or perfume with very strong, lingering, sweet odour (gives me a migraine)**
> 
> **Allergies: None that I know of (other than the strong scent)**
> 
> **Medical history: MDD and PTSD (on meds so all under control), clavicle plate (bone shattered and I kept the plate in but when the weather gets cold, it hurts still), migraine (don’t know what causes it yet)**
> 
> **Now, stop assuming I’m not taking this seriously. And if you’re going to force me to answer more questions, buy me a bottle of whiskey.**

_This can’t be right,_ Do-san thinks. _No, this just can’t be. Not Ji-pyeong. Have you seen Ji-pyeong? That arrogant punk. This can’t be him. He’s probably making this up. This doesn’t make any sense._

Do-san texts Ji-pyeong, unable to sit still as he paces around the room.

> Do-san: hey
> 
> Do-san: this isnt real, right?
> 
> Do-san: u made this up
> 
> Do-san: right?
> 
> Ji-pyeong: If I were going to make things up, I would have given myself a better origin story.
> 
> Ji-pyeong: Dumbass.
> 
> Do-san: ur an orphan?
> 
> Do-san: did ms choi adopt you?
> 
> Do-san: is that the debt you owe?
> 
> Ji-pyeong: Working. Talk later. Bye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get ready for drunken chats :D


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I typed this on ao3 mobile so forgive any errors. I hope you enjoy this

Do-san has been waiting the whole day in a state of suspense. He's still having a hard time reconciling what he knows about Ji-pyeong through his relationship with him and what he had discovered earlier in the day. He's certain if what Ji-pyeong says is true, eventually Dal Mi would have known about it when she confronted both him and her grandmother, right? Of all things to conceal, this wouldn't be the information worth hiding In fact, it would have helped Dal Mi get over the lies sooner. And if Dal Mi knew, he doesn't see why she wouldn't have told him about it, especially knowing Do-san's animosity with Ji-pyeong. So, this has to be a made-up story to get him to stop bothering Ji-pyeong. Right?!

 _Oh lord, this better not turn out to be true,_ he pleads to a God he hasn't quite reached out to in years. He has called the man a privileged, rich, sheltered asshole way too many times to his face. There's no turning back from that. No redemption. When Ji-pyeong finally comes back, he has packed dinner for Do-san, mumbling something about being too tired to cook. He removes his jacket and takes his towel out of the dryer, getting ready to shower. 

Do-san stops him on his way, "We need to talk."

Ji-pyeong groans petulantly, "Now? I'm tired, Do-san."

"You said you'd talk about it later. I didn't bug you when you were working--"

That seems to tick the older man off whose gaze immediately steels, "I shouldn't have to _tell_ you not to bug me when I'm working. You did me no favours there. It's common sense"

He walks away without waiting for a reply and shuts the bathroom door. Do-san's initial reaction is to seethe and cuss under his breath. He has been strung up the whole day, waiting for this conversation. But eventually, his hunger gets the best of him and he lets go of his wounded pride and sits down to eat. He's nearly done when Ji-pyeong comes out freshly showered.

Ji-pyeong fills a glass with warm water, drinks a sip before popping a few pills. The sight of it settles Do-san's irritation towards the man even if it does nothing to quieten the questions in his head. Something about that action is so human and intimate. It's what he has seen his parents do before going to bed every night. Growing up, he has watched his grandparents counting their medications and separating them into compartments for the whole week. He'd help them read the tiny writings on the prescription. Even as a child, he was aware of how important the task was. It may have been a trivial deed but he understood that it was a trusting affair. His grandparents depended on him, to some extent, for their well-being. It was this very reminder that inspired him to figure out how to code Noongil in such a way that it can detect various pills accurately based on shapes, sizes, colours, and inscriptions. And it was this very same bittersweet memory that compels him to ask the next question despite the tension between the two just a while ago, knowing that most pills taken on an empty stomach would lead to various other complications in the long run.

Do-san asks, washing his utensils, "Have you eaten?"

"Ya," Ji-pyeong answers while refilling his glass before asking, "How was the food? Any good?"

"Yeah, it was good. Nowhere close to my mum's kimchi fried rice though."

The older man smiles, "Lower your expectations, dude. That's the only Korean place around this area. "

Do-san sighs, "I know... I just--I miss home."

"Me too," remarks Ji-pyeong in a soft voice. 

Do San tries his luck again, "So... about earlier--"

Ji-pyeong's back is turned towards him but he sees the way the older man stiffens anyway. 

"Not today, Do-san. I want to go to bed."

"If not today, then when?"

Ji-pyeong quietly walks over to the couch, removes Do-san's laptop and keeps it aside. 

"Man, in the morning, you said later. Now you're saying nothing at all. How do I know you'd even revisit this conversation later?"

"You don't. You just got to trust that I will when I must. "

"Oh come on, that's a load of bullshit-- and-- and such a flimsy reassurance. I can't possibly sleep thinking about all this--"

Ji-pyeong interrupts sternly, "Nam Do-san, I want to shout at you but I can't bring myself to be arsed. Stop whining already--"

"Why does everything sound like whining to you?! Earlier, you said a panic attack is a reasonable response to this situation and yet--"

"It is but I already told you what you wanted to know. What else is there to talk about?" Ji-pyeong dismisses.

"I don't believe you!"

"And that's on me, how?"

"It _is_ on you! Because what fucking reason have you given me to believe you, huh? You have constantly berated me from the very first day we met and told me countless times that I'd fail at my aspirations. You have more than once said that I'm nothing but a pain to you. And let's not forget how you convinced everyone that you were only helping Dal Mi to pay off your debt and then you turned around and tried to sabotage things for me. Even after I explicitly told you I was in love with her. You said you'd be Dal Mi's backup plan if Noongil doesn't get an investment but then when I needed you, when I _begged_ you, you turned your back on me. Why should I believe anything you say?!"

"I know this is going to come as a shock to you, but I am a _person_ , Do-san. No different than you. Just a goddamn human being like you and everyone else-- with needs and messy emotions...and many failings, trying to do something right for once. But I'm not going to sit around apologising for everything you have ever been offended by. And you obviously turned out successful, so really, why do you even care about what I have to say? In fact, I apologised to you just the other day for all that mess...and I meant it. You said you were sorry too and I took it to heart. I thought that meant we were moving past all that shit, that we're not holding the past against each other. But if this... whatever this is-- is going to work, you're going to have to trust me. And that means trusting me even when I don't roll over like a dog and do whatever you want whenever you want me to."

Do-san opens his mouth to interject but Ji-pyeong stops him with a hand up, "No, don't--I refuse to argue with you over whether I deserve to be given the benefit of the doubt. If you're going to fucking count all the ways I've let you down, maybe stack that up against all the ways I've showed up for you and see for yourself if I'm worth trusting."

He falls on the couch at that and pulls the blanket all the way up, covering his face. Do-san is infuriated but something about the calm and calculated way that Ji-pyeong spoke makes him feel guilty. He doesn't understand this man. Do-san kind of wishes Ji-pyeong had just shouted at him instead. Screamed bloody murder like he used to. Told him how insignificant he was in the grand scheme of everything. That would have made more sense than whatever this is. 

*****

He sits on the bed, watching a film on his laptop. Ji-pyeong had gone to sleep two hours ago but still, he hears the man tossing and turning on the couch. He rolls his eyes but gets up to clear his bed before walking over to the restless lump on the couch. He pulls at the blanket, revealing a messy bed head and exhausted gaze. 

"Take the bed, I'll take the couch."

"s'okay... " Ji-pyeong slurs before tucking himself back in. 

Do San pulls the blanket away again, "I can't sleep with you tossing and turning like that. It's noisy. Take the bed. "

Ji-pyeong glares at him and if this were any other day, Do-san would have laughed at the absurdity of the sight, a grumpy Ji-pyeong, eyes barely open, tucked like a burrito, hair all spiky and mused. 

"Don't make me drag you, old man!" he says holding up Ji-pyeong's ankle, much to his chagrin. 

Eventually, Ji-pyeong gets up and clears the couch for Do-san.

When he gets into bed, he sighs contentedly, "Thanks."

The sound of that does something unexpected to Do-san. His whole body seizes up for a fragment of a second and he can't breathe right. But it's not the sort of breathlessness he endured in the morning, not the painful sort. It's more... Gentle? It's weird. Like for a second, it made him feel immensely good to know that Ji-pyeong was appreciative. That he could do something for Ji-pyeong who seems to take pride in never needing anyone or anything. 

But that feeling doesn't last forever. Especially not when he's finally learning why Ji-pyeong hates the couch with a vengeance. He has never slept on it before, what with having a bed on the floor so close to the couch but goddamn, Ji-pyeong wasn't exaggerating; this couch is absolute shit. It doesn't give in to the shape of his body and he feels like he's sleeping on a plank with unpredictable ridges. Does this count for penance?

*****

28 days left

Do-san wakes up at 9 am and finds Ji-pyeong still deeply asleep. He makes himself a cup of coffee and sits down, staring at his phone, making a mental list of what he plans to get done for the day. Ji-pyeong startles awake an hour later, looking around blearily to orient himself. When he checks his phone, he sits up straight for a second, face twisted in horror. 

"Fuck! How did I sleep in? Haisshhh! This is why I don't shut the curtains!"

Do-san scoffs, rolling his eyes, "What an awful crime to sleep in on a Sunday."

He goes to the kitchen to make the older man a cup of coffee when he hears him grumble, "Haisshh, thought I'd get out before you woke up." 

"Asshole, " Do-san says, passing the mug of steaming coffee, silently enjoying hearing Ji-pyeong express gratitude unthinkingly.

Ji-pyeong doesn't reply but Do-san continues, "Fine. It's a Sunday. I won't interrogate you. So, calm down already and enjoy the morning like a normal person. Not that you're normal in any sense of the word but maybe for a day, you can pretend."

Ji-pyeong smiles, taking a long sip, humming appreciatively. 

"It's just ridiculous. Why are married couples expected to know everything about each other's past anyway?" Ji-pyeong mumbles to himself.

"Huh? What?"

"Nothing..."

"Weirdo," Do-san remarks, still looking at his phone. 

"I just-- This whole thing is a lot harder and awkward because we are expected to know everything about each other. Even our irrelevant pasts. It's like an exam with objectively correct answers that we must know by heart. Why is that even a thing? It's just marriage, not psychometry."

"Because it's normal to know things about someone you intend to share your life with?" Do-san answers slowly, trying to deduce what exactly Ji-pyeong means. "I guess...that's what people do when they are in a relationship. Obviously, it's a lot easier and more natural when it's someone you actually desire. At least that's how I experienced it. "

"Hmmm...Do you think you can ever love someone without knowing their past? Just love them for who they are in the moment?" Ji-pyeong asks, looking away.

"I used to think I could. Hell, I used to want that so badly... To have someone-- to have Dal Mi see me for who I was in that moment. Not my past. But I don't think love like that lasts. People can never be truly detached from their past. Who we are in the moment is influenced by who we were in the past, no? We are a composite of all the people we have ever been and ever loved and hated... We carry all those traits with us... I guess, knowing where a person comes from makes us understand them as they are, accept them-- and... that understanding, however irrelevant, is... Love. The great, big love marriage is supposed to be founded upon."

When Ji pyeong remains quiet and contemplative, Do-san adds, "That's why I said we should talk. I don't understand you. At all. I'm trying to but I don't. "

"I don't want to be understood. Not anymore."

"Hmmm... That's just... sad, dude. But also untrue. Maybe you don't want to be understood by the world at large because you don't care what they think of you. But there must be someone whose opinion means the world to you. Like-- Ms choi for instance. You would want to be seen by her, for who you truly are. "

"Wrong..." Ji-pyeong whispers.

"Huh? "

"I said you're wrong. I don't want her to see me for who I truly am. I want her to see me the way _she_ sees me. Distorted, without the details... It makes for a kinder picture than the reality. "

"Soooo... Are you implying that my impression of you could get any worse than it already is by knowing your past? Cause I assure you, you've hit rock bottom already. There's nothing worse at this point," Do-san retorts with a smirk. 

Ji-pyeong laughs hard enough for his eyes to begin tearing up. He's still recovering his breath from the occassional onslaught of giggles as he covers his face.

He gets up to go to the bathroom but on his way, he muses Do-san's hair, muttering "When did you develop a sense of humor, you crybaby? "

It should piss him off. It should make him want to slap the man across the chest to dodge the trespassing hand. It should offend him. But it doesn't. 

He deadpans instead, "Since my whole life turned into a joke."

He relishes the echo of Ji-Pyeong's laughter even as he shuts the bathroom door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop by, will you? We need to talk. 😉


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can barely keep my eyes open. Sorry for the errors if there are any

Yes, some would argue that Do-san has no situational awareness whatsoever. Others might say that he is downright inconsiderate. Ji-pyeong would call him annoying and a pain in the ass. But really, at this point, what has he left to lose? That’s what he tells himself when he picks up his phone to text Ji-pyeong merely half an hour after the older man left the apartment.

> Do-san: give me ms choi’s num?
> 
> Ji-pyeong: Why?
> 
> Do-san: i didn’t realise i needed ur permission
> 
> Do-san: director han
> 
> Do-san: she’s a person
> 
> Do-san: not your investment project
> 
> Ji-pyeong: I’m working
> 
> Do-san: i wont bother u for the rest of the day
> 
> Ji-pyeong: *Contact card: Ms Choi*
> 
> Do-san: thanks
> 
> Do-san: it’s just… u said u didn’t want to be seen for who u are
> 
> Do-san: u wanted to be seen the way Ms Choi sees u
> 
> Do-san: i figured I might as well ask her and save us both the trouble
> 
> Ji-pyeong: Don’t sugar coat it.
> 
> Ji-pyeong: You want to fact check what I told you.
> 
> Do-san: a little bit of that too, yes.
> 
> Do-san: but seriously tho
> 
> Do-san: that way u don’t have to say it urself
> 
> Do-san: win-win?
> 
> Ji-pyeong: Whatever.
> 
> Do-san: is that a yes?
> 
> Ji-pyeong: Stop texting me.
> 
> Do-san: okayyy thanks bye

He thought he was ready for the conversation. He had poured himself a shot of soju for liquid courage. Yet, when he calls and Ms Choi asks in that sweet, caring voice of hers if everything is okay, he regrets it almost immediately. But he has to pull through because if he quits now and asks Ji-pyeong about it one more time, he’s pretty sure that the man will throw him in prison just for the heck of it.

“Do-san, ah…?” Ms Choi calls again.

“Hmmm… sorry, Ms Choi. I’m listening.”

“Are you okay, boy? Talk to me. You’ve never called before,” she asks, her eyebrows scrunching anxiously.

“No, no. I’m fine. Don’t worry. I just—wanted to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

Do-san clears his throat and starts, “You know we are going to have to face an interrogation about the validity of the marriage, right? The US immigration is very strict, even with the usual green card applicants. Let alone someone about to be tried in court--”

“Are you nervous?” Ms Choi asks.

“Very much so.”

“Ah, sweet boy. I wish I have that Alex Kwan in front of me. I want to strangle him for all this trouble he’s putting you through…”

Do-san chuckles bitterly, “Me too.”

“Be brave, Do-san ah. Ji-pyeong is there. He’ll find a way.”

“Hmmm… that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I just—I need to know everything there is to know about him. In case I get called in for an interrogation, I need to prove that I know him well enough. Can you tell me about his younger days? How you met him?” Do-san asks tentatively.

Ms Choi grows solemn at that. Although she can’t see him via video call, he notices her looking away.

“I can’t, Do-san. It’s not my story to tell. I have no right.”

“But Ms Choi—“

“No. You have to ask Ji-pyeong. I can’t break his trust,” she says firmly.

“No, Ms Choi, he knows I’m asking you. He consented to it. In fact, he did give me a sheet of paper with details about his past. About moving between orphanages?”

“Aahh… he told you? That’s surprising…” Ms Choi remarks with a soft smile. “Good for him.”

“Why?” Do-san asks. He ignores the feeling of dread that grows exponentially, knowing that Ji-pyeong wasn’t lying about his past.

“He has never said it to anyone. It took him 17 years before he finally told me everything I didn’t know. Good that he’s opening up.”

“Well, I may have forced him into it. For my case. He couldn’t say no. Which is why—I figured I’d stop hounding him and just ask you instead,” Do-san says, scratching his neck uncomfortably.

“What do you want to know?” Ms Choi asks.

“Hmmm… just start at the beginning. How did you come to adopt him? Did you always want to adopt someone from an orphanage or…?”

“Oh, no. I didn’t adopt him. I came across him on the streets,” she remarks casually.

“Huh?”

“I used to own a corndog restaurant in Habjeongdon. This was a long time back, you see. Nearly two decades ago. Dal-mi’s father—my son-- was still alive then… One day, I don’t even remember when exactly, but I had seen this kid walking up and down the street in his school uniform. At first, I didn’t really think much of it. But he’d disappear for hours at a time and suddenly, he’d be there again, in the street corner, collecting bulletins from utility poles. He had this bag and a huge cardboard tucked under his arm. But by evening, it just felt odd, you know? He looked—lost. So, I asked him if he had lunch, if he wanted to come in for a corn dog. He must have thought I was trying to get money out of him. He politely declined and walked away, but I saw his eyes lingering on the board outside with the price listed down. He didn’t cross my shop anymore. But then… I was closing the shop at night --it had been drizzling for hours at the time and by then, it was pouring. I turned around to leave and saw this figure, huddled under the streetlight. At first, I was startled,” she laughs, remembering.

“It was such a peculiar sight, can you imagine? A silhouette in the pouring rain? I got scared. But then I realised, it’s that school kid, hugging his bag in front of him, the cardboard under his arm, sitting under the streetlight in the rain. And I tell you this, Do-san, I thought I was looking at an angel. He had this—this halo around him. There’s no other way of putting it. I mean—the street light and the rain and the way light from passing cars reflected, it was so… tragic and yet…ethereal. Like something right out of the Bible. Like how the sermons say we must help the poor and the needy because it may just be the Son of God.

“I recall looking around, wondering if anyone else would help him. The whole street was dark and desolate. It was eerie for me as an adult; can you imagine what it would be like for a kid, out in the rain? I went up to him and asked him if he had a place to stay. I could see he was afraid of me but he clenched his jaw and lied through his teeth. He was too proud to admit it. And maybe, that’s all he had left at the time- his pride. So, I didn’t force him to tell the truth. The thing is… if a strange adult offers a lonely kid a place to stay in the middle of the night… it’s one out of two things. It could be kindness, but more often, it turns out to be something heinous. So, I didn’t invite him home with me. I just told him where I kept my spare key hidden for the restaurant. Told him he could stay there where it’s dry and warm till 8 am in the morning. I even had food in there that he could heat up and eat. He just scoffed and said I had no idea what I was talking about. But you see, I had been through some struggles by then. I knew hunger and desperation when I saw it. So, I walked away and let him keep his pride, knowing he will sleep better at night if I pretended I didn’t care either way…

“The next day, I remembered that I left my savings in the cash register. I was terrified. I was so certain he would have stolen the money and ran away. I had been saving the money to help my son with his business venture. I have never run that fast in my life. But when I got there, everything was in its place. He didn’t touch a thing more than what was offered. In fact, he advised me to open up a bank account so I don’t lose my money recklessly... God, I didn’t realise it then but it’s nothing short of a miracle. I gained a son right before losing one. If I could go back in time—I don’t know what I could have done differently. But I wish I showed up for Ji-pyeong a lot sooner. Somehow… I just—“ she wipes her tears, smiling.

“I thank God everyday. I may have lost my sight but now, I see him as he was, so much clearer in my head. If I concentrate hard enough, it’s like I’m back in Habjeongdon, in my black rain coat, hearing the drumming of the rain… seeing him again. A child. He was just a child, Do-san. And yet, he turned my life around.”

Watching Ms Choi cry softly makes Do-san tear up too. “Now, I get it—he said in the morning, he wants to be seen through your eyes. Said you would paint a better picture than the reality. I see what he means…”

“Haissh, did Good Boy say that? Don’t believe him, Do-san. He’s—he’s not who he says he is.”

Do-san raises his brows in surprise, but quickly recollects himself when he realizes that she can’t read non-verbal cues. So, he verbalises instead, “Huh?”

“I mean… he’s very—he’s hard on himself. It’s tough for him to accept kindness. But don’t be fooled, he is a lot nicer than he says he is. He’s wonderful when you get to know him, really. You have to persevere is all.”

Do-san laughs, “Persevere, huh? That sounds about right. It’s an arduous task alright.”

Ms Choi laughs too while chiding him, “Do-san ah, when someone has had to grow up so fast at such a young age to survive, you have to understand… he couldn’t have done it without protecting himself. I know he can sometimes come across as harsh, temperamental—but what else could he have done? How could he have braced living on the streets if he grew up as open and soft as you and Dal-mi? Sometimes, it’s easy to hang on to the mistakes he’s made… he makes it easy to blame him for things. But—he shows up for people. Don’t listen to the things he says. Pay attention to his actions. You will see him the way I see him.”

Do-san shrugs uncomfortably, “Did he—say anything? About me blaming him? I—I know better now but still--”

“Oh, no. He didn’t say anything to me. Why? Is there something I should know?”

“Will you fly to San Francisco to smack me upside my head?”

Ms Choi laughs, “If I must…”

“The first day he moved in, I called him a privileged bastard—“

“Aaah… he gets that a lot. He kind of prefers it that way so no one can see through him.”

“Yeah, no… I also-- I may have implied—“

“Hmmm?”

“I said something along the lines of him being just another rich kid with daddy issues. And—I—I said to him that… he’s no good to anyone. He serves no real purpose… if it’s not him, it’s just another rich jerk in his place. I—I didn’t know all this about him. I was angry and—I have no excuse, really. I just lashed out at him.”

“Haisshh… you have quite a bit of venom in that tongue, don’t you?”

Do-san squirms, feeling ashamed of himself. “I’m sorry. I just… it was all happening too fast and I didn’t--” he sighs deeply, not finding the words.

“What did he say?”

“Hmmm?”

“What did Ji-pyeong say?”

“He didn’t say much. He just—shrugged it off,” Do-san recalls.

“Remember that, Nam Do-san.”

“Remember what?” Do-san asks, confused.

“He let it go. He could have said something to hurt you back. Could have left you there and came back home. He didn’t. Because he, of all people, knows what it means to say things out of anger. He doesn’t hold it against other people for that reason. So, give him the same chance when it comes down to it.”

Do-san is surprised by that. He is still processing it when she continues, “Your friend… I don’t remember the name. The one whose brother passed away? He even blamed Ji-pyeong for it?”

“Kim Yong-san? He—yeah…”

“He did quite a bit of damage, you know? I understand it came from a place of pain but… sometimes, you must stop and ask yourself why certain people make for better punching bags than others. Just because he can take the hits, doesn’t mean he deserves it, ah, Do-san. Remember that… He is always telling people off about the smallest things. But when it comes down to the things that _really_ matter, he won’t stand up for himself… That kind of wounds don’t go away all that easy.”

It brings to mind the time after the 2STO contract, when Do-san dragged Ji-pyeong out and unleashed his wrath, how they both left the place bleeding and wounded in more ways than one.

“I guess… I’ve been guilty of that,” Do-san admits.

“I know.”

“I’m so sorry, Ms Choi. I wish I could turn back time and—“

She interjects with a smile, “Sweet boy, don’t we all? I’m just saying, let go of your hatred. See him for the good in him. After all, he’s there, putting his life at risk for you, when no one else is.”

“I don’t hate him.”

“But you don’t care for him either. That’s just not good enough for me.”

“Okay. I-- I’ll try... to do better.”

She smiles, switching the conversation so effortlessly. “Good. Now, have you eaten anything yet? What time is it there?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are the reason I update so quickly. You motivate me! So, do share your thoughts with me!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV Ji-pyeong

It’s a Sunday, Ji-pyeong tells himself. It’s worth taking a rest. He wraps up what he had planned to do for the day and heads to the grocery store to shop for ingredients. He’s going to cook himself a nice, warm meal tonight. It’s something he doesn’t get to do all that often in the past month.

When he finally gets home, he tells Do-san he’s cooking dinner. Jjamppong – spicy seafood noodle that Ji-pyeong knows Do-san likes. He has overheard him telling Dal-mi once in the office. Do-san smiles like a child being told that he can go out and play and Ji-pyeong rolls his eyes at the sight.

“I’m going to take a shower. You slice the onions and carrot. You’re going to have to work for the food,” remarks Ji-pyeong.

Do-san shrugs easily and goes to pick the vegetables out of the grocery bag.

It is only upon showering and looking in the mirror as he brushes his teeth that he notices the sticky note, now damp from the steam in the room.

> _Sorry. I mean it this time. – Do-san_

There is also a small image of a corndog with a smiley face that he had drawn in the bottom right corner.

“Haisshhh…” Ji-pyeong sighs.

He dries his hair with a towel as he approaches Do-san from the back. He places the damp paper on the counter next to Do-san’s hand.

“What for?”

“Hmmm? Oh—I… for everything?” Do-san answers, embarrassed.

“You spoke to Ms Choi…” he states as a matter of fact.

“Ya, I did… I told you I would.”

“So… what’s this? Pity?” Ji-pyeong says calmly but with a sharp gaze, ready to pounce at the wrong word.

“No. Not pity… Understanding, perhaps. But not pity,” Do-san answers, meeting his gaze.

Ji-pyeong doesn’t say more, just quietly tucks the note into his pajama pants and starts prepping to cook. Surprisingly, Do-san stays where he is even after cutting onions, offering to help shell and devein the prawns. They work in tandem, a comfortable silence sets over them with the occasional quip and laughter.

As they are waiting for the broth to boil, Do-san takes out a bottle of soju and two shot glasses, eyebrows raised in question towards Ji-pyeong. He smiles when Ji-pyeong nods, placing the bottle and the shot glasses on the counter. Ji-pyeong stirs the stew and turns around to see that Do-san is still waiting, bottle unopened.

“Are you waiting for me?” Ji-pyeong asks incredulously.

“Haisshhh, did no one teach you manners?” Do-san asks. “Come on, do the honours.”

Ji-pyeong bursts out laughing at that. Sure, it is customary that the older person pours the first glass but he wasn’t expecting that formality in this environment. He follows along and watches the way Do-san wraps both his hands around the shot glass as a sign of respect. Ji-pyeong then sets the bottle on the table and Do-san wordlessly returns the gesture by pouring him a drink.

Ji-pyeong rolls his eyes but his smile undermines the action. He downs the shot and turns around to check on the stew. As he turns back, he sees Do-san downing the shot and he chides playfully, “Did no one teach you manners?”

“Haish… you were looking the other way. It’s not my fault.”

“Otherwise, you’d turn away and cover your mouth as you drink? Really?”

Do-san crosses his arms defensively, “No… that’s too much to ask for.”

“You should. I’m older. I used to be your mentor. You’re my subordinate. You should be diffident and—“

“That was then, now I’m your husband. So, shut up and drink up,” he says nonchalantly as he refills Ji-pyeong’s shot glass.

Ji-pyeong almost chokes on his saliva at that. He doesn’t in fact take the shot but turns away, busying himself with the noodles. It’s stupid, it’s just Do-san telling him to fuck off in new, inventive ways. But something about the ease with which he claimed to be Ji-pyeong’s husband made his heart skip a beat and that is a scary feeling. He has to remind himself, it’s just Do-san. The idiot kid who stole the woman he loved away from him. He doesn’t like Do-san. In fact, up till a while ago, he could safely say he sort of despised him. It’s just annoying, emotional, unthinking Do-san spewing shit like he always does. If Ji-pyeong blushed, it must have been the steam from the soup. If, for a fragment of a second, he liked having a supposed husband, that’s only because he values family and he knows he has been and will always be deprived of it. He would have reacted the same way regardless of the person who said it. Right? Right!

By the time they sit down to eat, they are slightly giddy from the shots of Soju taken on an empty stomach. They eat voraciously. The only sounds shared are that of them slurping of soup and rushed compliments that follow.

Do-san pours him another shot, exclaiming, “Goddamn, this is probably better than my mum’s recipe.”

“Admit it,” Ji-pyeong smirks.

“Probably, yeah…”

“The truth… let me hear it,” Ji-pyeong says, gesturing at though he can’t hear a thing.

“Fine, asshole. You are talented at this. Like what even—“ Do-san says, tipping the bowl to drink up the leftover soup. “So that’s why you’re okay with risking your career, huh?” Do-san remarks. “Cause you have this to fall back on.”

“Ya,” Ji-pyeong says, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Totally. I wanted to give up the career I built for so long so I could sell noodles to idiots like you…”

They’re both slurring a little from the alcohol, face growing redder by the minute.

“Stop, don’t,” Ji-pyeong says, covering his shot glass.

“What? Why?” Do-san whines.

“You can have more if you want but I’m done.”

“Ugh… who wants to drink alone? Come, one more—“

“Nope, dumbass. I gotta take my meds later,” Ji-pyeong mutters casually, without any heat.

“Ah shit, yeah. Okay.”

Ji-pyeong sips on water, trying to regain his balance when Do-san asks, “So… those pills? That’s for your depression?”

Had it been any other day when they were both sober, Do-san wouldn’t have asked and Ji-pyeong would have sooner told him to fuck off than to answer him honestly. They’d both blame it on the soju in the morning.

“Hmmm… yup. Helps me sleep better too.”

“But—you hardly sleep even with the pills, man. You toss and turn a lot and you wake up super early,” Do-san says in between a series of burps.

“You’re disgusting,” Ji-pyeong laughs. “What did Dal-mi even see in you?”

But because fortune would never favour Ji-pyeong, he too involuntarily burps at the end of the sentence, shocking himself.

It triggers a fit of uncontrollable laughter out of the younger man and Ji-pyeong can’t help but relish the joyful noise.

“You’re more like me than you would like to admit,” says Do-san. “So, she saw in me whatever she saw in you.”

“Obviously not,” Ji-pyeong says, catching his breath. “She prefers you.”

Surprisingly, Do-san’s face turns solemn at that, losing the mirth of earlier. “Nah, let’s not talk about her.”

“Okay,” Ji-pyeong shrugs. “But don’t say I hid it from you. She chose you. Just so you know…”

“Thanks but it doesn’t change anything,” Do-san says.

“Why not?” asks Ji-pyeong out of curiosity. “Why doesn’t it change anything? It must count for something. If you returned home tomorrow, you might still make things work with her…”

Do-san thinks about it for so long that Ji-pyeong almost expects the conversation to end there. Instead, he hears a hesitant answer as the younger man reflects.

“A year and a half is a while, you know? People change.”

“I don’t think she did,” Ji-pyeong says.

“But I did. I—these past few months have been tough on me...”

Ji-pyeong merely nods.

“And the thing is… she didn’t even try. She just gave up.”

“What do you mean?” Ji-pyeong asks.

“She… The last time I saw her, it was on my birthday. I was obviously not in the mood to celebrate but I had been reading about legal cases against unfair contracts and I was trying to get her onboard. I was making an effort. She just gave up. She said every time she saw me, she’s reminded of her incompetence and she envies me.”

“Oh come on, Do-san. She probably just said that to let you go in peace.”

“Exactly! She knew what it meant. She knew that giving up on the case would mean giving up on us. And she didn’t even try!”

“Some would call that a sacrifice—hell, some would even say that is true love. But not this idiot, of course…” Ji-pyeong mutters, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I'm probably an idiot... But I don’t want that kind of sacrifice. I don’t think of it as love. I mean--regardless of whether or not it’s love, if I do go back to her today, I will never be able to trust her again. I’d still wait for the other shoe to drop. It’s not worth the pain…"

He exhales loudly before adding, "Would you?”

“What?” Ji-pyeong asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Now that you know that nothing will come out of it from my end, would you want to give it another chance? Try and win her heart?”

Ji-pyeong thinks about it for a second as a sign of respect to Dal-mi and his past feelings but he knows the answer.

“No… I won’t.”

“Why?”

“I’m not who she wants—“

“But what if you are now?”

“That’s just settling. I’d rather be alone than to be loved out of necessity,” Ji-pyeong says.

Do-san nods, “That’s… yeah. And I’d rather be alone than to be loved uncertainly. I—I just-- for so much of my life, I’ve worried about losing the love I had been given. There was always a catch to it. You want to be loved, you need to be the best in school. You want love, win the Math Olympiad. You want love, get chosen by Sandbox. You want love, win over the other man whom she has loved for far longer… It’s just… love has been a step ahead of me at all times, I’ve had to chase it every step of the way. I’m tired. I want to be enough, just as I am. To have someone fight for me and not give up. I don’t want a love that wants me to be better than I am, that expects the circumstances to be in our favour, that keeps me vying for attention. I want to be at peace with who I am, to be loved for who I am at any given moment.”

Ji-pyeong scoffs, “At least there was something you could do to attain love. Something to work towards. Be grateful for that.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Do-san asks, beginning to get exasperated.

“No amount of work --or effort or success or sacrifice will reward me with love. If I could work for love, I would. Hell, I've tried. But there’s nothing waiting on the other end for me either way,” Ji-pyeong says, shrugging like it doesn’t matter.

“Ms Choi loves you. You needn’t work for that,” Do-san argues.

“Sure. But Ms Choi is all I have. She’s all I’ve ever had. But I wasted 15 years in between, trying to live without her. And now… now when I finally have come to terms with it, I’m more aware than ever of how brief that will be. She’s growing old. She’s gone blind already. Eventually, I would have to bury my heart with her and I’d have nothing else to wake up for,” he swallows the knot in his throat, not wanting to be pitied but can’t help the words from stumbling out.

Fuck this soju, he thinks. Fuck everything.

“Ji-pyeong, you’re only four years older than me. You will find more people to love and be loved by. Life is long.”

“That scares me even more… Life could be longer than I could stand it.”

He feels Do-san’s unflinching gaze and he hates how hot his face feels. He gets up to wash his dishes and hears Do-san call him by his name.

He just mutters, “Don’t,” as he runs the water. 

Do-san follows quietly, helping him dry the bowls.

After putting everything away, he goes to make his bed on the couch when Do-san calls out, “Take the bed. I'll take the couch.”

“We’ll take turns. I know you didn’t sleep well last night,” Ji-pyeong says.

“Or… here’s a better idea. The bed is big enough for two. Granted you don’t shove at my face in the morning and scare me to death,” Do-san says hesitantly, scratching the nape of his neck.

Ji-pyeong knows Do-san would regret offering to share the bed in the morning but it’s been a long night and he is feeling a little flayed open. So he takes the offer.

“You keep to your side,” Ji-pyeong says, placing a bolster between them. “I’m not used to having people near me when I sleep. I can’t promise I won’t accidentally punch you if you lay your head on me again.”

“Haissh… don’t be such a monster,” Do-san huffs, settling in. “Good night.”

“Night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even I can't take the slowness of this burn


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pov do-san

Do-san holds his mother’s hand weeping like a child. But what can she do? This is no scratch on the knee or stomach ache that she can fix with her motherly hands. The metal bars slam shut and the room grows immensely dark. He hears the locks click loudly and he buries his face in his hands and cries. But then, the room breathes. Rises and falls. He opens his eyes but he can’t see anyone or anything in the darkness, but he can feel the menacing breath on his neck.

Do-san startles awake just then, his half-conscious mind fighting away the remnants of the nightmare. He rubs his eyes and sits up, feeling anxious still. But he finds Ji-pyeong instead, dressed formally in a suit the way he used to back when he was managing SH Venture. He’s standing by the photo frames that Do-san has decorated his shelf with. He's holding one picture up, looking at it with his utmost concentration.

Do-san supplies helpfully, “That’s my grandpa.”

It startles Ji-pyeong and for a moment, he rushes to place it back where he took it from but realising it’s too late, he continues looking at it.

“Haishh… so loud in the morning,” he complains.

“To a thief, even a whisper is a shout,” says Do-san, stretching in bed and yawning loudly.

“Father’s side or mother’s?”

“Huh?” Do-san asks, uncomprehending.

“Your grandpa…”

“Mother’s father.”

“You look happy here,” remarks Ji-pyeong, not looking up from the photo.

“Yeah… I was… Cause I hadn’t met you yet.”

He laughs a little to himself, proud of the quick comeback.

“For an idiot, even a dumb joke is an achievement,” Ji-pyeong answers, looking at Do-san and waggling his eyebrows playfully.

Do-san opens his mouth to act offended but he yawns instead.

“You literally just woke up from sleep,” Ji-pyeong says, rolling his eyes.

“And you just walked out of Suits.”

Ji-pyeong raises his eyebrows, shaking his head incredulously.

“Do you watch anything but the news? Anything worth watching?” Do-san asks, judging him.

“Do you say anything worth hearing?” Ji-pyeong answers, smirking, before turning his attention back to the picture.

After a moment, he adds, “Your grandpa is a carpenter?”

“Wha—nah. He was helping me build a rack for shop class. Home econs,” Do-san recalls. “That’s why we were laughing so hard in that picture. It was the third plank my grandpa broke trying to saw in half.”

“It’s a nice picture.”

“Yeah, my favourite of him.”

“Did you manage to get the rack done?”

Do-san chuckles, “We did. But it fell apart the same day it was graded when I was taking it back home. My cousins mocked me for years after, about how it was holding itself together through sheer will power.

Do-san pushes himself up then, walks towards Ji-pyeong, squats to reach something at the bottom end of the shelf. He pulls out a small, knitted basket, crooked from the miscalculations in the number of crochets per row.

“The first thing I learnt to knit. Also for Home Econs. My grandpa taught me this too, he was quite good at it.”

Ji-pyeong touches it with his fingertips, caressing the crooked rim of the basket with a soft smile on his face. Do-san is a little taken aback by the tenderness he sees in a face that usually looks disinterested at best.

“You’re the sort of kid who keeps all his weird school projects, huh?”

Do-san smiles, “Not all, no. Just those that remind me of him.”

“Hmmm…” Ji-pyeong nods, carefully placing the photo back on the shelf. “I assume he’s not around anymore.”

“Yeah. Cancer. This was during his chemo phase, he was living with us for half a year. So, he had the time to help me with my projects. He passed away a few months after this picture was taken. Septic shock.”

When Do-san looks up, he finds that Ji-pyeong is listening attentively, eyes fixed on Do-san’s face. The younger man feels like he has been stripped bare for the world to see so he doesn’t return the gaze. He looks at his hand instead, at the crooked little basket.

“Sometimes, it feels like he was the only one who ever saw me for who I was. And loved me all the same. No conditions. No expectations… maybe that’s because we were only together for 7 months. Maybe if he lived longer, then—“

“He would have loved you still,” Ji-pyeong interjects.

Do-san looks up astonished.

“I don’t presume to know what your relationship was like… but still, I think he would have… Either way, it doesn’t make the time you shared with him any less significant. Love is love even when it only lasts briefly. That much, I’m learning from Ms Choi.”

Do-san nods, grateful for the reaffirmation. He feels like he might just cry, so he changes the topic.

“Anyway…why are you dressed like that?”

“Work.”

“You’ve been wearing Henleys and T-shirts since you showed up here. It’s weird seeing you wear a suit again.”

“Ehm… just—an important meeting.”

“Okay, then why are you still here, standing like a creep and staring at my pictures?”

He expects Ji-pyeong to roll his eyes, say something snarky. Instead, he just shrugs uncomfortably, like he’s holding something back.

Do-san continues, “What? You’ve been here a month already and you choose to rifle through my things now?”

“No… I’ve seen it before--I just... didn’t notice the carpentry.”

Do-san laughs, “If you can even call it that…”

But he trails off when Ji-pyeong exhales loudly, shaking his head as though he was lost in his thoughts.

“I think… I may be wrong but I think I remember the shed my father used to work in. Looks similar to this. I think he was a carpenter. I don’t remember much of him, but looking at this… I kind of remember sitting on a bench and watching him work, sawing wood and banging about with a hammer. Well… anyway…”

Ji-pyeong takes his jacket from where it was hooked on the wall, getting ready to leave.

“Wait! Dude… don’t,” Do-san says, face morphing into horror. “You remember him? Where he lived?”

“Vaguely. Anyway, I’ll cook something tonight but you’re going to have to figure out your lunch. I’m gonna head out now—“

“Is that how he died?”

“What?”

“Your dad… was it an accident? Were you there—on the bench? Please don't tell me you were there--”

Ji-pyeong shakes his head, eyebrows scrunching. “Who said he died? At least, last I saw him, he was alive… But then again, yeah, last I saw him, you were probably not born yet. So… maybe, he’s alive? Maybe he’s not.”

Do-san blinks, not knowing where to start, “How did you end up in an orphanage then?”

Ji-pyeong snorts, “Death is not all that makes an orphan out of someone. Half of us there had parents till the day we found ourselves handed over to the system.”

“Don’t you want to look for him? Find out how he is now? Ask him questions?”

“Nope.”

Ji-pyeong makes to leave again but Do-san reaches out and grips his forearm. “I’m not done…”

“I am,” says Ji-pyeong, eyes hardening.

“Talk to me. Stop hiding things—just tell me!”

“Tell you what?”

“Everything. Anything? Just—don’t hang me out to dry. I can’t do this shit alone—“

“Hang you—what—I’ve already told you all there is to know!” Ji-pyeong raises his voice, irked by the insistence.

“No, you haven’t! You give me the bare minimum every once in a while just to shut me up. And then I’ll have to beg you or Ms Choi to help me piece together the puzzle.”

“Bare minimum, huh? What I’ve told you is more than I’ve ever said to anyone.”

“But I’m supposed to know _everything_ about you! That’s the point! You must have known this when you came to me with the plan to evoke spousal privilege. You must have known the work we had to do. My life—our lives depend on this shit and fuck, I didn’t even know your father could be alive. And I’m what-- married to you?! You think anyone would buy this rubbish?! Let alone someone who’s going to be interrogating us for fraud?! I can’t fucking sleep at night without waking up with an anxiety attack. You’re just taking this shit too lightly!”

Do-san doesn’t know how to explain it. But marriage… hell, even less serious relationships are founded on this premise of sharing lives. It’s not just about getting the facts right. But there’s something more to it. There are things about Dal-mi that only he knew. The letters may have come close to that but as adults, he was the person she relied upon. He was the person she’d call up at night and talk about everything and nothing. He knew her fears, aspirations, every slights and every compliments she had ever received in that day. He knew parts of herself that she wasn’t aware of. Like how she ties her hair when she’s stressed, how her smile differs depending on who it’s directed to. He knew what colours she liked best and what scent she preferred. He knew which shoes she felt most comfortable in and which shoes made her confident. He doesn’t know all these about her anymore. That’s the difference… it’s not the facts, the information, the words. It’s the colours, the shades that only someone you love a certain way in that moment can see. It’s about… intimacy. You can’t fake that. And that’s exactly where Ji-pyeong and Do-san will inevitably fail. Doesn’t matter if he can get the questions right and the dates memorised. Anyone who sees them can tell they are not who they claim to be.

“I’m taking it lightly, huh?” Ji-pyeong asks, voice a pitch lower and a lot more threatening.

“I’ve told you this before. I’m just—I’m trying to understand you—“

“No, you’re not…”

“I am! But you're not. You promised me you’ll find a way for us to get through this. I’m putting my life on the line because you told me you’d be there every step of the way. I’m telling you, this is how it works. Now, are you a man of your word or not?”

Do-san regrets the words even as he’s saying it. Ji-pyeong’s glare shifts from irritation to fury. He shoves at Do-san, pushing him against the wall. Do-san expects a punch and braces himself but it doesn’t come.

What comes is a lot worse.

“That man left me when I turned 4," Ji-pyeong hisses through gritted teeth, moving so close to Do-san's face that the younger man can feel his breath on his face.

"On my fucking birthday. No goodbyes whatsoever. I didn’t even know that it would be the last I’d ever see of him. I waited for him by the gate like a dog. Not hours. Not days. But years. I stood there every birthday, hoping he’d at least come to see me even if he doesn’t take me home. I couldn’t even recall what home looked like… I probably couldn’t tell him apart from another man on the street. But I waited. Until my 17th birthday and the orphanage politely and legally kicked me out to the streets. So, no, I don’t fucking care if he’s alive or dead and I don’t fucking need to talk to you about any of that! I wish he had died instead… in an accident like you said. While I was sitting on that fucking bench, I wish he sawed his arm off and died instead. At least then, he would still be my father in my imagination. At least then, this story would be a tragic one of love and loss, like you and your grandpa. As it is, it’s not. It’s just plain fucking news, cause and effect, I killed the woman he loved and he paid me back in kind. He couldn’t take my life with his own hands so he did the next best thing he could. Is that it? Is that what you want to hear? And knowing this helps you? How? Explain that to me. Exactly how does this help your situation? Does it fulfill your morbid curiosity?! Huh?” Ji-pyeong’s voice grows louder, more frantic.

“Does it make you feel better about your shitty existence? Is this payback for all the times I’ve hurt you?!”

Do-san swallows the knot in his throat, “I’m just trying to understand—“

Ji-pyeong pulls away abruptly and shouts, “You’re not! If you were, you wouldn’t keep twisting the damn knife! I didn’t put you here! I didn't make you sign the contract! I didn’t frame you for this crime! I didn’t force you to get involved with Dal-mi! But somehow, I’m the one paying for it all. Because you can’t fucking see me as a person until you see me destroyed! Is that it? You want me on my knees, weeping?! Is that the only way you can relate to me? The only way you can understand me? You need to hear about every shitty thing that’s happened to me so you can feel better about where you’re at in your life? Is that it? Or wait, what is it-- a savior complex? Tell me, did you fall in love with Dal-mi or did you fall in love with her pain? Does it get you off to see someone suffering?!”

“Don’t fucking bring her into this,” Do-san warns.

“Oh, alright, knight in shining armour. Maybe it just makes you feel less like a loser when you know someone else has it worse, huh? If you want someone to pity, go look at yourself in the fucking mirror. But stay out of my life!”

Do-san is still catching his breath from a whirlwind of emotions when Ji-pyeong leaves him there, slamming the door shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know... I have a problem. I can't stop the angst!!!!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV Do-san.

It’s nearing 10 pm and Ji-pyeong still isn’t home. Do-san has texted and called numerous times, but his phone is switched off. He knows he's being irrationally anxious but he can't help it. He feels like he's about to lose his mind. Something doesn't sit well with him. So, he puts on the first jacket he finds and decides to look around. The cafes are all closed but one. But when he opens the door, there are only two people in there, sharing a milkshake.

He walks around for an hour until he realises that he couldn’t feel his fingertips or his toes. His fingers have hardened in a weird way, like a wax figurine. The jacket isn’t thick enough for this weather but he can't be bothered to go back and change. He tries calling Ji-pyeong again but still no answer. He stands at a street corner, feeling an anxiety attack sprouting from somewhere within. The long expanse of road ahead feels like an out-of-body experience. Like he’s about to disappear with the wind if he keeps crossing intersections.

He doesn’t know what to do so he calls the only other person he can think of.

“Hello, sweet boy. How are you?”

“Ms Choi,” he gasps. “Ms Choi, I—“

“Do-san ah, what’s the matter? Why do you sound—“

“Ms Choi, I can’t find Ji-pyeong. Has he called you?”

“No, he hasn’t. What do you mean you can’t find him?”

“I—“ he breathes, jaw trembling. He can’t tell if it’s from the cold or the welling tears in his eyes.

“It's just—He left in the morning. He’s usually back before dinner. He usually cooks. He’s not back yet. He’s not—he’s not picking up the phone either. It’s switched off. I don’t know what to do--”

“Do-san, ah, breathe. Tell me, what time is it there?”

“It’s 11.16 at night.”

“Maybe he went out somewhere. With friends? Drinking? Partying?”

“Ms Choi, are you listening to yourself?”

“Haishh… yes, yes. That’s not like him. Where are you at? Wait... are you crying?”

“No, it’s just really cold out here.”

“Why are you outside?" Ms Choi asks.

"I'm looking for him."

"He’s a grown man. He can take care of himself. You’re worrying about nothing—“

“No! I—We—We had a fight in the morning. He left-- absolutely furious.”

“Huh? What were you fighting about?”

“His… his father,” Do-san says, wincing.

“What?!”

“I… I'm sorry...I didn’t know-- about his father. And I kept pushing him to talk. He lost it.”

“Haish… Nam Do-san ah, I don’t get you. You know he doesn’t want to talk about all that. Why are you still pushing him? Leave the boy alone before you get yourself into a bigger mess.”

“I don’t know… I don’t know, Ms Choi. I screwed up. Like everything else... it's just what I do,” he gasps.

This time, it’s not the coldness in the air that gets him. It’s that hollow feeling inside.

He begins to gasp through his tears, “I don’t understand anything. I feel so lost, Ms Choi. I feel so… _stupid_. And out of control. I can’t sleep at night… I can’t breathe. I feel like I’m running all the time even when I’m at home, sleeping. I just—everything is too much. And he’s all I got. He’s all I—this is it. The backup plan is now the only plan. If we fuck this up, I’m going to jail, Ms Choi. Can you imagine what that will be like for my parents? My father had only just started treating me like a son again... I just—I wanted to make this work. Am I a bad person? Am I selfish? He said—he said I like watching people suffer,” he stutters.

“He said it’s gratifying for me to know that other people have it worse. He said-- he made it sound like— like-- I _want_ to see him destroyed. Like it’s payback. I—I don’t want anything bad to happen to anyone. That's not why I agreed to this... I’m not—I don’t know what I’m doing. Sometimes, I think it’s better if I turn myself in. Maybe it’ll be less painful than sitting around, counting down the seconds until everything catches up to me. Yeah, I should turn myself in. I think I should—“

“Do-San! Stop it!” he hears a familiar voice. One he had vowed to never hear again.

“D--Dal-mi?”

“Don’t do anything stupid. You don’t deserve to take the blame for something you didn’t do. You cannot just turn yourself in! Why are you even considering it?”

He outright sobs just then, leaning against the wall to try and hide himself from the curious gaze of passersby. He must look crazy.

“It will save everyone the trouble…”

“It will save no one!”

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Dal-mi. I never know what I’m doing. I didn’t then. I don’t now…”

“You don’t have to know everything, Do-san ah. Just go home. Mr Han will show up eventually.”

“How do you know? You don’t know that! You should have seen the way he looked at me today. Like he was--”

“He’s just running late, Do-san.”

“No, no—he’s usually home by 8 the latest—“

“Do-san, listen to me! He’s running late. I know he is. Just go home.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just trust me. Okay? Go home. He’ll be back.”

“Are you working on a project with him or something? Or wait... Mr Park is his assistant right? Can I have Mr Park’s number? He said he had an important meeting. Mr Park would know—“

“Do-san… He’s on unpaid leave. He hasn't been working for a while now.”

“Wha—no. He goes to the café to work every day. Even on Sundays.”

“Work, yes. But not for SH Venture. So, no. You’re not going to get anything out of Mr Park.”

“Why—I don’t understand,” Do-san hiccups. “Nothing makes sense —“

He hears Dal-mi take a deep breath like she’s calming herself down before speaking.

“Nam Do-san, listen to me! You’re doing it again.”

“What?”

“You’re spiraling. You get anxious and you start catastrophizing and you act without thinking. Don’t do anything stupid. You’ll mess up everything.”

“Do you know something --tha--that I don’t? Did he tell you something?”

“Go home, Do-san ah…” she whines, almost pleading.

“Tell me or I’ll do something stupid, I swear—“

“Alright! Alright! He’s cutting a deal with 2STO. He’s trying to pay them off, to settle it outside of court. I don’t know the details, but I know Alex Kwan is also under investigation. Ji-pyeong had a meeting with the CEO of the parent company. They can testify that you were only managing the company at a tech capacity, granted they prioritise your well-being over Alex. Which means, whatever you have to offer has to be more than the other end. He had a meeting with the lawyers today at 2STO. He’s probably running late. Just go home and wait, please.”

“Why—why didn’t he tell me? Why didn’t he say a thing?”

He hears Ms Choi pipe in, “Aiyah, Do-san ah. Have you not learnt a thing?”

“But…I just—“

Dal-mi says quietly, “Because he knows you wouldn’t agree.”

“What? Why—“

“I can’t tell you anymore. I’ve said too much already. Why wouldn’t you listen? Go home. It will all be alright soon. Everything will be settled and you will be acquitted and you can come home. Just trust Mr Han. But please—don’t ask him anything. Pretend like you know nothing. Just trust him to take care of this. Promise me, Do-san, don't turn yourself in on a whim. Let him handle this his way.”

*****

Lo and behold, when he returns home, there Ji-pyeong is, unwrapping the various layers he has on, while staring at his phone.

Do-san’s phone rings just as he closes the door behind him, startling Ji-pyeong.

“Shit… I didn't see you there,” Ji-pyeong says. “I was just calling you—“

“Where were you?” Do-san asks, voice soft but raspy from all the crying he’s done.

“Working…”

“What work?” Do-san asks, flinching.

He knows he promised not to ask but he just can’t help it. A big corporation like that does not cut a deal easily. What’s on the line?

“Since when do you work till 12.30 at night huh?” Do-san asks instead, eyes tearing up.

"Since when is it your business what I do with my time?" Ji-pyeong starts but stops immediately after.

“Are you—are you crying?” Ji-pyeong says incredulously, scoffing at first but growing more solemn as the realisation hit.

“Wha—why are you crying now?” Ji-pyeong asks, concerned.

Do-san shakes his head, holding the truth of his forbidden knowledge back, “My hands hurt…”

What is this shady deal? Why isn’t anyone telling him? How does Dal-mi know about this more than he does? Ji-pyeong said he wasn’t interested in her anymore. Then why?

Ji-pyeong purses his lips skeptically but reaches out for Do-san’s hands. What he sees sobers him up.

“Fuck, why did you go out dressed in your PJs? Are you trying to lose your fingers?!”

He drags Do-san to the bathroom and orders him to remove the wet clothing. Do-san does slowly, wincing when he finds it difficult to bend his fingers. He’s down to his pajama pants and t-shirt, trying to remove his dirty boots but Ji-pyeong guides him to the edge of the bathtub to sit down. He kneels down and removes the boots and socks.

“Look how red your toes are! You’re going to get blisters tomorrow! This looks like frost bite,” Ji-pyeong looks up to see Do-san’s trembling jaw, tears becoming more and more unstoppable.

“Does it hurt too much? Should we go to the hospital?” Ji-pyeong asks, voice suddenly too soft.

It just makes Do-san cry harder, even as he shakes his head.

“Come here, get in the bathtub. This might hurt for a bit but we need to warm you up.”

Do-san gets in the tub slowly, pajama pants and all. At first, he feels sharp pain, like pins and needles on his feet and hands. But as he slowly gets used to the temperature, it becomes less painful.

Ji-pyeong unknots his tie with a single pull and throws it near the basin before rolling his sleeves up. He reaches into the water to hold Do-san’s hands.

“This might sting a bit. But we need to move your fingers as they thaw. For blood circulation.”

Do-san stares straight ahead, not saying a thing.

After a few minutes of silence, Ji-pyeong sits down at the edge of the tub and yawns loud enough to snap Do-san out of it.

“Haishh… I work all day and come home in the middle of the night to work some more,” he says but his small smile undercuts the sting.

Do-san, feeling the blood return to his limbs, pulls his knees up and hugs his wet pants, resting his chin against his knees.

“Mind telling me what you were up to in the middle of the night without your winter jacket?”

Do-san, exhausted from all the crying, says so softly that it’s almost a whisper.

“I was out looking for you…”

“Me?” Ji-pyeong asks, eyebrows pulled down disbelievingly. “Why?”

“You didn’t pick up your phone. I thought you might still be working... in one of the cafés but all the cafés around here were closed. I—I was worried.”

“You were-- Why—Do-san, I’m older than you... I’m not going to get lost and be found at the police station, crying for my mummy.”

“I know…”

“Then why the hell were you worried?”

Do-san snaps, “I don’t know, okay?! I can’t help what I feel. You’ve never been late before. And you walked out of here pissed off with me! I was just fucking losing it! I couldn’t sit still, I couldn’t breathe, I just had to do something so I thought I’d look for you. But you were nowhere to be found and I got scared.”

Ji-pyeong’s expression morphs from curiosity to something softer to irritation.

“What? Were you worried I'd bail... head back to Seoul or something? You always surprise me with how little you think of me--”

Do-san interjects, “No, it’s _you_ — _you’re_ the one who thinks so little of me. I told you I was worried about _you_. Not about me. Not about whether or not you’re gonna bail. Ji-pyeong, I know this is hard to believe but I’m not that selfish.”

Ji-pyeong looks away, slightly abashed.

“You think I want to see you suffer. That I’m trying to exact some sick twisted revenge—“

Ji-pyeong interjects with a hand on the crown of Do-san’s head, “I was angry… I don’t really believe all that.”

Do-san closes his eyes as the tears pour again, “You said—I wanted to see you destroyed and I —“

“I didn’t mean it. I just—Fuck, kid. Come on. You know yourself best. You don’t need me to reassure you that you’re not like that.”

Do-san shakes his head, “I don’t know anything anymore. I’m terrified all the time. I dread going to bed and I dread waking up.”

“You’re anxious. It’s a normal reaction—“

“I used to think I was a good person. A loser maybe, a failure, but still good at heart. But now, I can’t tell anymore. I don’t know how to live with this feeling. I just want everything to stop!“

“It will. I told you I’ll find a way.”

“I don’t want you to. Not anymore.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m thinking of turning myself in. I could probably bargain for a lighter sentence—“

Ji-pyeong’s hand clenches at the back of Do-san’s neck, forcing the younger man to look up at him.

“What the fuck are you saying?! You are not responsible for the fraud!”

“Not personally. But _I_ was the CEO. You said it yourself. I can never be a CEO. I suck at it. I shouldn’t have— maybe if someone else had taken this on, it wouldn't have turned out like this. This is the price I pay for my incompetence…”

Do-san turns to look away but Ji-pyeong captures his face with both hands forcefully, “Haish... Since when do you listen to me, huh? What happened to always proving me wrong?”

Do-san’s face crumples again, “I can’t go on like this. You don’t know what it’s like… being afraid all the fucking time—“

“I do! Do-san, I do. But you cannot just roll over and let people get away with the shitty things they do. This isn’t on you! Don’t you dare... Don't even think about turning yourself in. For fucks sake, why are you setting yourself up for failure before you’ve even had a fighting chance?”

“Because you’re about to do something stupid! I don’t know what it is but I know I’m going to hate it!” Do-san shouts, voice cracking as his breath catches.

Do-san looks at Ji-pyeong and he can see it. The way his eyes skitter for a moment, the clench of his jaw...

“Whatever you’re up to, don’t. Please. It’s not worth it,” he adds.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ji-pyeong says, releasing Do-san’s face and bracing himself to stand up.

Do-san pulls him down again, “Dal-mi told me, okay? About your unpaid leave. About you wanting to cut a deal with 2STO. She won’t tell me what the deal is but I know how the organization works. They are sharks! Whatever the deal is, don’t sign it. It’s not worth it.”

“Haishh… you don’t even know what you’re saying. Just let me handle it,” Ji-pyeong dismisses him.

Do-san hits the water in frustration, splashing everywhere, “Then, tell me! If I don't know what I'm saying, explain it to me! Why won’t anyone tell me anything?! Am I fucking crazy for wanting to know what’s happening?!”

“8.9 million… That’s the deal.”

Do-san stares at him, dumbfounded. It sounds stupid even as he says it but he says it anyway, “8.9 million won?”

Ji-pyeong rolls his eyes, perching at the edge again, “Dollars. USD.”

“That’s… I can’t even… How much is that?”

“10 billion won. And you’re free to go, granted you sign a contract of confidentiality.”

“I don’t have that much money. I can’t even imagine it,” Do-san starts.

“I know.”

“So, what were you even planning to do?”

“Just let me figure that out…”

“Ji-pyeong, tell me!”

“Sell my shares and investments. And my house. Get a loan. Just a little short of 10 billion won but I can probably get them onboard.”

“What?! If you sell your shares, you can’t –“

“Be a major stakeholder anymore, I know.”

"You'd lose your job."

"Maybe..."

“You can’t do that.”

“Since when do you get to tell me what I can and can’t do, huh?” Ji-pyeong asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Since you’re offering to destroy your career for this. This is not your mess! This is mine.”

“I’m not destroying anything. I can still get a job elsewhere.”

“But you will have to start all over again. From the bottom...”

“You said it yourself, I’m still young…” Ji-pyeong shrugs.

“No, fuck this. No. You haven’t signed yet right? You said you can probably get them onboard? So, you haven't signed. Call them and cancel the deal.”

“Do-san, stop reacting emotionally—“

“I’m emotional? You’re the one throwing your life away!”

“It’s just money…”

“It’s not just money and you know it. It’s everything you’ve ever worked for!”

Ji-pyeong stops trying to argue with him, “You asked me once for help. Begged me. I didn’t and now we’re here. I’m not taking any more chances. If money can solve the problem, I’ll find a way to give them what they want.”

Do-san climbs out of the tub then, dripping wet, and squats in front of Ji-pyeong, hands on his knees where he’s seated at the corner of the tub still.

“Haishhh… stop it. You’re all wet,” Ji-pyeong says, pushing away his hands half-heartedly.

“Ji-pyeong, listen to me. You don’t have to do this. You mustn’t. I’ll take my chances with the CIS, okay? We’ll stick to our plan. See where the chips fall.”

“You said nobody would buy this act. We're not convincing anyone.“

“I know what I said. I’m telling you I was wrong. It’s not the first time I’ve been wrong. We’ll make this work.”

“I don’t want to take the risk,” Ji-pyeong says quietly.

“I trust you. Do you trust me?” Do-san asks.

Ji-pyeong looks up then confused.

Do-san reiterates, “I trust that you will drag me out of prison with your bare hands if you must. I don't know what misguided sense of responsibility or stubbornness compels you but I know you’ve got my back. Do you trust me? I won’t let your career go down the drain. We can do this. Together. Let’s take our chances with the Immigration officers. We'll make it convincing. Okay?”

Ji-pyeong smiles, shoving Do-san away, “Fine...whatever… It's your call.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you think I was so heartless to leave you hanging like that? I got your back, readers! Cause you've got mine!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV Ji-pyeong   
> Let the games begin

Ji-pyeong wakes up to the smell of coffee brewing. He rubs his eyes and looks at his phone. 9.40 am.

“Haish!”

“What a way to start the morning,” says Do-san, walking over with two mugs of coffee in hand. He sits on the bed next to Ji-pyeong.

“I shouldn’t make a habit of sleeping in…” he sits up and receives the mug with both hands “Thanks.”

“You said you’re cancelling the deal so there’s nowhere else you need to be anyway.”

“Did I say that?” Ji-pyeong mutters before taking a loud sip.

“Oi!” Do-san starts.

“Okay, okay listen. I’m not cancelling it but I’m postponing it. I’ll let the lawyers keep negotiating back and forth and see how far we get.”

“Wah, you do seem to have a lot of money to waste, huh?”

“No… the guy I’ve got on my side, he’s corporate. This is his pro-bono case.”

“What? Why would he take on a major corporation for pro-bono?”

“His—partner… he uses Noongil.”

Do-san looks away then, “He must detest me then.”

“No,” Ji-pyeong says. “I—we grew up together. In the orphanage. We’re not too close but he’s also a patron of the orphanage so we do occasionally talk. I’m the one who recommended Noongil to him when the app was still in trial phase. Remember I gave you a set of data that first round? That was feedback from his partner. So… let’s just say he has seen Noongil grow through the years. He knows the shady business is recent.”

“Did he fly here? For this?” Do-san asks.

“He lives here. He can’t get married to his partner back home. He’s lived here for a decade now. He’s the one I consulted when I first heard the news. He’s also the one who told me about the spousal privilege loophole. And how it’s legal to marry here.”

Do-san nods slowly.

Ji-pyeong doesn’t know why but his heart races. No, scratch that. He knows exactly why and it terrifies him. David is the only acquaintance he had had from that phase of his life. David went to the same school as Ji-pyeong. David knows about the whole debacle with the other boy. Hell, one time, David even sneaked into Ji-pyeong’s room at night and consoled him, told him there’s nothing wrong with him or the person he loved. To not let the world make him feel like a monster.

David, bless his heart, held Ji-pyeong’s hand and said, “If you’re a monster, so am I. Let’s be monsters together.”

He can’t let Do-san ever meet David.

“So… let the lawyers battle it out. Let’s not be so quick to shut that option down. We never know.” Ji-pyeong says, watching the downcast expression on Do-san’s face.

“Listen, kid. You have my word... I won’t cut a deal without telling you. Nothing to worry here. I’m not committing to the deal.”

Do-san nods, determined now.

“You’ve started calling me kid… I’m not a kid.”

“Hmmm… I used to call you an idiot. Are you an idiot?” Ji-pyeong says, smirking over the rim of the mug.

“Shut up.”

“Anyway, you’ve finally got my coffee right…”

“Black, no cream, no sugar…” Do-san makes a puking gesture. “As bitter as your personality.”

Ji-pyeong smiles, looking down at the mug when he hears a clicking noise.

He looks up to see Do-san taking a picture of them. He takes another one as Ji-pyeong protests.

“What the—Stop that!“

Do-san smiles, “I look pretty cute in it. You, on the other hand…”

Do-san sends the picture to Ji-pyeong’s phone.

“Set it as your wallpaper.”

Ji-pyeong checks his phone and sees the picture of them, the younger man smiling, head tilted up, and Ji-pyeong looking up with a frown, hair messy from sleep.

Do-san says again, slurping his coffee loudly, “If we want this to be convincing, we gotta go all out.”

Ji-pyeong glares at him but Do-san wordlessly takes Ji-pyeong’s phone.

“Here, key in your password.”

“0880.”

“Wah, so easy to hack,” Do-san says, fiddling with the phone until he has set the picture as the wallpaper.

“What do I have to worry? I’m married to an IT genius…”Ji-pyeong makes a sound like he was going to barf. “Sorry, even just saying it was enough to trigger my gag reflex.”

Do-san narrows his eyes and fake smiles. He shows Ji-pyeong the picture he has set in his own phone as his wallpaper. It’s one of Ji-pyeong sleeping on his stomach, face squished on the pillow, hair falling on his face. He looks like an absolute goof.

“Hey! Non-consensual photography!”

Do-san waggles his eyebrows in challenge.

“Why do you get to pose for the picture and my face looks like that? I want a redo,” Ji-pyeong whines.

Do-san smirks pointing at his phone, “Now this? This is payback.”

“Oi, Do-san!”

“Get your lazy bum out of bed and take a shower. We’re playing dress up.”

“What?”

“It just occurred to me yesterday... with the picture and all... I realised everything in this house is mine. There’s nothing of you here. So, we’re going to take a bunch of pictures, different places, different clothes, hang it around the house. Then we are going to get a wedding album done to have on that coffee table. We’re going to fabricate memories to go with each picture, backtrack this shit all the way back to Sandbox era. We’re going to leave a paper trail.”

Ji-pyeong looks astonished. “That’s actually… yeah.”

“Say it! I’m a genius,” Do-san says smiling.

Ji-pyeong rolls his eyes. “You give yourself too much credit.”

“Cause you don’t give me any, asshole. Go, shower time. I’m hungry. We’ll get breakfast on the way.”

Ji-pyeong mutters on the way to the bathroom, “Fine, that’s pretty smart of you.”

“Huh? What’s that?” Do-san asks, making a gesture like he can’t hear a thing.

“Don’t push it, idiot,” Ji-pyeong says, hiding his smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a super short one. Just wanted to get it out of my head


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV Ji-pyeong

Do-san is wearing a black turtleneck with beige pants and he insists that Ji-pyeong wears his beige shirt with black slacks.

“Colour coordinate with me. Couples’ outfit.”

Although Ji-pyeong doesn’t mind it too much, he still throws a fuss about it.

“Can this get any cornier?” Ji-pyeong resists.

“Shut up and come stand here. I want to see how it looks.”

They’re both standing in front of the huge mirror in the bathroom, Do-san smiling proudly and Ji-pyeong rolling his eyes.

Ji-pyeong is startled when he feels Do-san wrap an arm around him and pull him close enough that he’s leaning on Do-san’s side. It’s warm and comforting but he does what he has trained his body to do for far too long – he shoves the arm and moves away.

Do-san smirks like he anticipated the reflex action, so he puts his arm up again and tilts his head, inviting Ji-pyeong to fill in the space.

“You need to work on this. Come on,” Do-san says.

When Ji-pyeong raises his eyebrow in question, Do-san whines, “My arm hurts... Don't leave me hanging.”

Ji-pyeong moves close enough for Do-san to rest his arm on his shoulder but still leaves a gap between them.

Do-san says, looking at Ji-pyeong through the mirror, “I get that you are uncomfortable with physical affection. But you need to fight the urge to push away. It would look really weird if you shirked my touch every time. That’s not how married people are.”

Ji-pyeong rolls his eyes and huffs, “Ugh… just let me pay off the 12 billion won.”

Do-san points at the gap between their bodies, “This right here?... is how friends hang out. Or siblings. Have you seen me like this with Dal—“

Ji-pyeong glares at him and Do-san makes a face like he is chastising himself. “Sorry, it’s the only romantic situation I’ve ever been in. I don’t have a lot of experience to base this on.”

He is about to drop his arm but Ji-pyeong moves closer until he is brushing against Do-san’s side, "And yet, he speaks like he's been married twice."

Do-san nods, lips pursed as if he’s in a deep contemplation and then says, “Yup, still just as short as I remember.”

Ji-pyeong shoves at him this time, protesting, “Haisshh, you’re only like this much taller than me.”

He puts his pinky finger out for reference.

“That much better looking than you too?” Do-san asks.

Ji-pyeong reaches around him in a second, wrapping his arm around Do-san’s neck so he could give him a noogie.

Do-san tries to break free, “Ow… stop it. You’re messing up my hair. What are you? Twelve? Ow, ow…”

Ji-pyeong lets him go, “I’m also that much stronger than you. So, watch it, kid.”

Do-san stands before the mirror, adjusting his hair.

“Let’s take a picture now before heading out. Come, stand here like before.”

“Why? So you can use that to mock me for the rest of time?”

“Maybe,” snorts Do-san, taking out his phone for a selfie. Ji-pyeong moves closer and looks at the camera incredulously. He turns to see if Do-san had taken the picture and just then, the flash goes off.

The result is an image of Do-san, grinning from ear to ear with his arms around Ji-pyeong while the older man looks at him quizzically. If you look closely, you might even say he looks fond but Ji-pyeong wouldn’t recommend it.

*****

“I’ve got a challenge for you,” says Do-san, halting Ji-pyeong just as they were about to enter the café he frequently visits to get some work done without Do-san's interference.

“What?”

“This is your usual spot right?”

“Yeah?”

“The person behind the counter recognizes you and all?”

“I suppose… It’s cold out here. Spit it out or I’m going in.”

“Your job is to convince that person we are married.”

“Haisshh… child’s play,” Ji-pyeong says, about to walk in and introduce Do-san as his husband.

But Do-san stops him with a hand to his chest. Ji-pyeong moves away, unconscious of the way he averts touch. Do-san raises his eyebrows, hand still held up, calling attention to the problem and the older man groans and moves closer again, letting the hand rest on his chest.

“What?”

“You gotta do it without _telling_ anyone we’re married. Without doing anything differently than you would any other day.”

“How the hell…”

“That’s the challenge, smartass,” smiles Do-san.

“But… why me? Why not you?”

“I came prepared,” says Do-san, holding up his hand, now adorned with the cheapest wedding ring they got on a whim the day before they registered.

Ji-pyeong rolls his eyes, pulling out a chain from underneath his shirt, the ring dangling on his chest now. “I never took it off.”

“Well then, if you’re better than me, prove it,” Do-san says, smirking. “We’ll see who’s more convincing. I’ll convince the next place we go that we’re married.”

“You make me question my every life decision that has led me to this,” Ji-pyeong mutters under his breath.

“Sorry? What’s that?” Do-san asks, way too gleefully.

“Shut up. Let’s go.”

Ji-pyeong removes his glove and forcefully takes Do-san’s hand out of his pocket.

The younger man complains, “Ah come on... A little on the nose, no?”

Ji-pyeong grins, almost in a predatory manner, “This is San Francisco, kid! Why the hell not?”

As soon as they’re inside, Do-san tries to shake Ji-pyeong’s hand off but the grip only gets firmer as the older man practically drags him to the queue.

Despite the hand-holding, Ji-pyeong is as stiff as a plank, face verging on discomfort.

Do-san rolls his eyes, moves closer to whisper, “Are you my father? This is how my father would walk me back from school—“

Ji-pyeong glares, takes another step closer and says in a hushed voice, “Fuck you. I don’t look a day older than you.”

“Is that the lie you tell yourself in front of the mirror everyday? I knew I heard someone crying in there.”

“No, that’s just me thanking the universe that I'm still me and not this idiot I live with. Idiot…”

The woman in front of them turns, looking over at them oddly.

“You think she heard us?” Do-san asks, voice still just a whisper.

“I doubt she understands Korean. Maybe she’s just weirded out by you whispering like that, idiot.”

“Yeah okay. But heads up, you’re failing at your challenge. Horribly.”

Just then, the woman turns again, pretending to be casual about it but she’s obviously a little suspicious of them.

Do-san stares at his shoes, making it look all the worse and Ji-pyeong huffs a breath, telling himself he’s only doing this because he hates losing.

He pulls Do-san closer with one hand and reaches out to touch Do-san’s face with the other. Time suddenly seems to move slower and Ji-pyeong is entirely aware of every small movement in the other man’s body, the way his eyes widen in surprise and his lips open like he’s about to ask him what he’s doing and Ji-pyeong closes his eyes and moves closer…

His lips touch the rim of Do-san’s ear and he feels the younger man shudder involuntarily as he whispers, “Maybe she’s just racist.”

Do-san explodes in laughter then, unable to control himself. He’s holding his nose to try and quell the next burst of giggles but he can’t help it. He covers his face, turning redder by the second as the woman turns to them again. Ji-pyeong too is smiling, shaking a little from the force of Do-san’s laughter.

The woman smiles at them, confused and Ji-pyeong, in the most charming voice, says in English, “Hi, how can I help you?”

The woman blushes and Do-san snorts again.

She starts, “Sorry, I just… my daughter really loves K-pop. She’s obsessed with BTS. I was just trying to see… but I can’t tell the difference really—“

Do-san laughs and says, “No, ma’am. We’re not members of BTS—“

Ji-pyeong interjects with a smile, “We’re far better looking.”

Do-san bites his lips to try and restrain another bout of laughter, his eyes tearing up a little.

The woman laughs a little, “I’m sure you are… But still, mind if I get a picture with you two? For my daughter.”

Ji-pyeong opens his mouth to deny the request when Do-san answers hurriedly, “Sure, why not?”

Ji-pyeong turns to stare at him incredulously but the woman has slotted herself between them and is smiling widely with her phone out. Do-san places an arm around her back and reaches over with his freakishly gangly limbs, pulling Ji-pyeong by the jacket so he can’t move away. Do-san even goes so far as to put up a Korean finger heart sign. If this gets any cornier, Ji-pyeong might die from secondhand embarrassment.

As soon as she’s done, Do-san takes out his phone and gives it to the woman.

“Can you take a picture of us?”

She agrees and Do-san wraps his arm around Ji-pyeong’s waist instead, whispering something about paper trails, and again, triggering the flight response in Ji-pyeong. But this time, he’s aware of it as it happens and he stops his body from trying to move away. Do-san, who had been bracing to tighten his grip to arrest Ji-pyeong in place, is surprised by the lack of resistance.

He turns to look at Ji-pyeong and mumbles, “Good, you’re learning.”

If Ji-pyeong looks blushed in the picture, it’s only from the exertion of fighting the impulse to shove Do-san away. It has nothing to do with the validation from Do-san, thrown so casually like he’s talking to a child. Nothing to do with how it made Ji-pyeong's body seize up for a second, sending a jolt down his spine.

Fine. Two can play that game. In fact, two must, he thinks.

As the woman steps forward, Ji-pyeong looks to Do-san, saying, “See, I was right.”

“About?”

He tilts his head towards the woman.

Do-san chuckles, whispering, “Come on, she’s nice.”

“She literally just said she can’t tell the difference between Koreans.”

“Can you tell the difference between white people?” Do-san asks, raising his chin.

“Fair…” Ji-pyeong says with a smile.

As they reach the counter to place their order, the woman grins at Ji-pyeong, eyes blue and bright. “The usual?”

“Yes, thank you. And two portions of the big breakfast. And… love, hazelnut coffee for you?” Ji-pyeong asks.

It was so peculiar that for a second, Do-san does not register that Ji-pyeong is talking to him, not until Ji-pyeong places his hand on top of Do-san’s where it’s resting on the counter.

“Do-san ah, stop daydreaming…”

It startles Do-san and he looks at the woman, agreeing, “Yeah, whatever he said.”

“Hazelnut coffee then?” the woman says, smile waning and cold professionalism settling on her face.

“Yes, please. Thank you.”

As they stand there waiting for her to make their drinks, Ji-pyeong’s hand continues resting on Do-san’s.

She places the coffee before them with the table number, announcing that the food will be served at the table.

Do-san smiles politely at her but she just looks past him and says, “Next.”

They head over to the table and take a seat. As Ji-pyeong removes his jacket, he says, “Mission accomplished.”

“What?” Do-san asks, sipping the coffee.

“Maybe she can’t tell we’re married but she can definitely tell we’re together.”

“How do you know?” Do-san asks.

“Watch,” Ji-pyeong whispers as the woman approaches the table with two plates in hand.

She places one gently in front of Ji-pyeong, smiling sweetly and when she turns to place the other plate near Do-san, the smile fades.

She then looks at Ji-pyeong and only Ji-pyeong, asking, “Is there anything else I can do for you, sir? A glass of water? A slice of pie?”

“No, thank you. Love, anything for you?”

“Huh—no.”

She still doesn’t look at Do-san as she nods and leaves.

“Love? Seriously?” Do-san says, scrunching his nose. “Such an old man.”

“What do you prefer then? Babe?”

“Ugh no…”

“Then quit whining and eat your food.”

Do-san is chewing a mouthful when Ji-pyeong says, “So… I can’t come to this café anymore. Thanks to you.”

“What? Why?”

“That woman had a thing for me. She’d refill my coffee for free.”

Do-san swallows sloppily, “Is that why she wouldn’t even look at me?”

He looks to the counter behind Ji-pyeong and catches the gaze of the woman. He smiles politely but she looks away.

Ji-pyeong waggles his eyebrows.

“Waaah, all these while you claimed to be working so hard, you’ve been flirting with the wait staff.”

“ _I_ wasn’t doing anything. _She_ offered... on the house, I said no politely. Twice. Not once but twice. She still kept insisting so I figured, nobody’s gonna come after her for refilling black coffee. Why not?”

“Who knew? You could charm people… Miracles do happen,” Do-san says, pursing his lips in thought.

“Is that a challenge?” Ji-pyeong asks.

He knows he shouldn’t push it. He really shouldn’t get himself in any more trouble. But his coffee-high brain, giddy from the way Do-san is looking at him, like he is trying to gauge what about Ji-pyeong could be attractive to others, makes one wrong move. A deadly one.

“Sure…” Do-san says, holding his hands together and placing his chin on it, staring at Ji-pyeong with a smirk. “Let’s see what you’ve got. Charm me.”

Check and mate.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV Ji-pyeong

“That was… a really good meal,” Do-san comments as they walk out. “Too bad we can’t go there again. She might poison my food.”

“Nah… you’re not worth the trouble. She’ll just spit in it,” Ji-pyeong remarks as a matter of fact.

“Asshole…” Do-san huffs. “Anyway, thanks. For the meal. You didn’t have to pick up the tab.”

“Yeah but now you owe me something. I’ll cash in another day,” Ji-pyeong says, smirking.

“As long as it is only worth 15 dollars,” Do-san answers.

Ji-pyeong drifts off in his thoughts, thinking about everything and nothing. They’re headed two blocks down to get more photo frames. The thought of it makes him uneasy, like he’s getting too comfortable living in someone else’s space. He understands why it’s necessary but it doesn’t make it any easier on him to go along with it.

He jumps, startled, when someone grabs at his wrist from the back and quickly extricates his hand. Even as he is moving, he can tell that it’s just Do-san but he can’t halt the movement so he restricts the force instead as his elbow meets Do-san’s chest.

The younger man takes the hit with a groan, cussing. “Dude… Really?”

“Shit, sorry, sorry… why are you grabbing me like that?”

“Why are you walking so fast, weirdo?”

“Why are you walking so slow?”

Do-san rolls his eyes, holding Ji-pyeong’s hand and causing the other man to sigh, “Is this necessary? Nobody’s even looking…”

“Hell yeah it’s necessary. Cause if you don’t get used to it, one of these days, you’re gonna break my neck in reflex and go to jail. I’m trying to save you from a life of imprisonment, jerk.”

Ji-pyeong can’t help but smile at that.

“See, it’s really just that simple,” Do-san says, swinging their hands together like a kid.

“For you, maybe.”

He knows Do-san is staring at him, he can feel the gaze. He also knows that the younger man is trying his best to not ask him why it’s tough for Ji-pyeong. Good that he’s learning what he’s allowed to ask and what he isn’t. Last night, once Do-san was asleep, Ms Choi had called him and given him a piece of her mind.

“Good boy ah, can you not be so careless with people’s feelings? Do-san was so upset earlier, he was talking nonsense about turning himself in. Thinking he’s just selfish for putting everyone through the trouble. He was crying so hard, he wasn’t even listening to what I have to say. I had to call Dal-mi to intervene. Why you have to be so harsh with your words? I know you’re good, your heart is in the right place. But sometimes, your tongue lashes out before you’ve made your intentions clear.”

He was half-ashamed and half-annoyed, having to deal with that at 3 in the morning. But he knows she’s right.

He pulls at Do-san’s hand and checks his fingers, pressing them one by one.

“Do they still hurt?”

“Huh—uh no… Not now. It was really painful yesterday.”

“And you’re still not wearing gloves.”

“It’s not as cold. Besides, I got pockets.”

Ji-pyeong looks over and sees that Do-san’s left hand is comfortably buried in his jacket. So he takes the hand he’s holding and shoves it in his own jacket, still clasped together.

“Haisshh… Don’t get frostbites again. I’m not your caretaker,” says Ji-pyeong but his actions defy his words.

Do-san just purses his lips and nods, playing along.

They’re waiting at an intersection for the traffic light to turn red when Ji-pyeong asks quietly, “Why is it so simple for you?”

“Huh?”

He merely squeezes the hand he is holding to clarify.

“Oh… I don’t know. I—I’m generally affectionate? This is normal for me with my friends… You’ve seen me with Chul-san and Yeong-san.”

Ji-pyeong nods. That, he has. They were always hugging or piggybacking each other even at the workplace.

Do-san continues, “Maybe if you were a woman, this would be more difficult.”

Ji-pyeong looks up then to see Do-san’s contemplative face, “Like then I need to be careful about boundaries, you know. So, there are no misunderstandings. But with you, it’s not that complicated. It’s like how I am with Chul-san.”

Ji-pyeong hates it! He hates how he feels his heart sink. He knows he can’t let go of the hand now or it will raise questions but goddamnit… what is this weird feeling? This sudden nausea? And anger? And disappointment… Ji-pyeong is no different than any of Do-san’s other male friends because Do-san is straight. There are no complexities of desire, no obscurity in intentions. It’s simple. Friends but with an exaggerated show of affection.

Ji-pyeong also sees Do-san as a friend, maybe even a close one. But the difference is that Ji-pyeong is also… just the way he is. When Do-san pulls him closer, the touch-starved part of him wants to lean in. When Do-san calls him his husband, even though he knows it’s all pretense, the child in him, the one that once loved a boy and wanted to be with him forever… that part of him longs to be called someone’s husband and have it be real. He tells himself it’s not Do-san he wants. In fact, he can hardly stand Do-san on a good day. It’s just the companionship… the idea of romance. The feeling of having someone around who is special to him and who treats him as someone special, the exclusivity… the cuddles. He has deprived himself of these needs for so long that he has forgotten how painful yearning for affection could get. Even with Dal-mi, he had never received any physical affections from her so he was never reminded of all that. It was the emotional need alone. But since morning, Do-san has been all over him, blanketing him with warmth and suddenly, he’s 15 again, walking back after school, anticipating the boy he loves and the hugs he gave so easily… how he’d bury his nose in Ji-pyeong’s neck and tell him how much he had missed him.

He shrugs the thought away. Ji-pyeong is no different than Chul-san. If he’s going to get through this in one piece, he’s going to have to remind himself of that constantly.

“Ji-pyeong ah… you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to. So feel free to tell me to stay away.”

“But?”

“But… why is physical affection so difficult for you? I mean… I get that some people just have a thing about their personal space but… sometimes, you seem hostile towards it. Like your reflex action is to push or shove… or like just now. I know you didn’t mean to but elbow to the sternum hurts like a bitch, you know?”

“Sorry…”

“No, no, don’t apologise. I was just…”

“Trying to understand?”

Do-san scrunches his face, abashed. “Yeah…”

Ji-pyeong has always been so convinced that he didn’t need to be understood. Perhaps, he has equated understanding to pity. What does that say about him? Does he feel sorry for himself? Does he treat himself like a victim so much so that he thinks anyone who hears his story would pity him? He’s going to have to break out of this, to take control over his past. He is here today despite all the odds against him. And that is not pitiable.

But at the same time, how will he answer Do-san’s question? _It’s hard because unlike you, I’m not straight? And you might someday discover that about me and think that I’m taking advantage of you?_ Because that’s how straight people are, right? The minute they think someone is gay, they make assumptions. How will he explain that the last time he let a boy hold him like this, the boy ended up in a hospital with broken ribs? That his math teacher called Ji-pyeong aside to tell him the consequences of it all, of loving a monster, the kind that preys on fellow men.

“You don’t have to answer. Let’s just… drop it,” says Do-san, nervous about pushing Ji-pyeong after yesterday’s events.

Ji-pyeong answers anyway, even as his brain squirms at the thought of revealing too much. He’s tired of fighting. Of being the monster and hating the monster.

“Where I come from, being close like this could land your ass in a hospital… The world has maybe changed a little since then—but still… it’s hard.”

“But why? How ‘bout with your friends?”

Ji-pyeong sighs. If he says anymore, he’s going to out himself and he doesn’t want to. It will make this whole process a lot more awkward for them both.

“I don’t have any. I mean, not like you and Chul-san. I have friends I occasionally meet up for drinks… or get invited to their weddings. But not like you guys are with each other.”

“That’s…” Do-san huffs in disbelief.

“If you say sad, I will push you in front of a car. I don’t need to be pitied. My life…and my needs are just different from yours. Nothing wrong with that.”

“I don’t pity you. But I do feel sad.”

Ji-pyeong glares at him, bumping against his shoulder as a warning, like he’s about to push him into the traffic.

Do-san just smiles. “Don’t I have the right to feel what I feel?”

“You do. But you don’t need to say that shit out loud all the time,” Ji-pyeong says, rolling his eyes.

“Why not? I’m being sincere…”

“I’ve worked so hard to build myself up. That’s not _sad._ ”

“Oh no, I don’t think—that is commendable, really. I have so much respect for you… even if you are a bit of an asshole,” Do-san says, bumping against him.

“I’m just sad that you had to suffer to get to where you are. I’m sad for the kid who grew up in that place, not for the adult I’m seeing.”

“Who said anything about suffering? It wasn’t all that bad-”

Do-san stops in his track, raising his eyebrows incredulously.

“Haish… fine. It sucked. It was the fucking worst. But whatever, I’m over it.”

“Okay…”

He really should leave it at that. He shouldn’t open this can of worms. But it’s almost like something in Ji-pyeong was dislodged from all the poking and prodding and begs to be let out.

“You ever wonder why I chose your name? For the letters?”

“Huh—oh… Ms Choi told me. You just picked it off the headlines about Math Olympiad--”

“It wasn’t that much of a coincidence.”

They’ve reached the store and Ji-pyeong lets Do-san’s hand go, tilting his head towards it. But Do-san doesn’t move forward; he turns to face Ji-pyeong instead, eyes boring into his.

“Why then? Why me?”

Ji-pyeong sighs, slightly hating himself for initiating this. But he thinks he needs to get it out anyway.

“I—It’s just—“ Ji-pyeong exhales. “Around the same time… I also won something. An investment competition. Forex trading challenge. Heard of it?”

“Yeah… It’s—correct me if I’m wrong but isn’t that to recruit skilled day-traders? Like you get a job if you win and gift money to invest?”

“Yup. And like you, I was also the youngest to win. They gave me a cheque but obviously, they were not going to give a job to an under-aged kid. I was one year too young. So, the newspaper focused on the runner-up, a 22-year-old college student who got the job. It’s like I didn’t exist.”

“Damn... why wouldn’t they? Youngest winner would have made a better headline, no?”

“Not a homeless orphaned one whom they can’t give a job to. They argued that I should actually be disqualified because I was under the age requirement. That it was already written in the criteria. But it wasn’t my fault that they let me start the challenge in the first place, even knowing my details and all. So, I just took the settlement and got out of their way. Also, the other guy, his dad was a big deal in the business world. So, they covered it like the rise of the heir to the empire, or whatever.”

“Fuck, Ji-pyeong… that’s not fair.”

Ji-pyeong scoffs bitterly, “You wanna talk about unfair? I was 17, still a minor by a year, so they can’t hire me, right? But they gave me a fucking cheque. Guess what? 17-year-olds cannot open a bank account either. What was I to do with that cheque? They knew this. They couldn’t give two fucks. Ask your guardian, they said. I told them I was an orphan. They looked awkwardly at each other and dismissed the meeting.

“That’s how I ended up in Habjeongdon. I was looking for a place to rent, someone to help me with the cheque, figure out a way to get the bank to cash it out. But then, I saw you, face pasted in every newspaper, in every TV screen, at every store I stopped at. The youngest winner of Math Olympiad! Your parents being interviewed, talking about how proud they were of you. Your mother kissing you on the cheek, your father carrying you to hug you. On repeat. Again and again and again. I wished I were you instead. So, given the chance to be someone else, I took it. I did it out of envy. So, those letters - even if I wrote them based on what I liked and didn’t- yours was not just a name or a signature at the end. It was how I lived vicariously through you, pretending to be someone who existed for everyone… someone who people couldn’t dismiss or look away from. Funny how we’re at where we are now… I never imagined the ending like this.”

He should have seen it coming but he didn’t and he finds himself wrapped in a big hug, Do-san holding his shoulders tightly, face resting against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry…”

Ji-pyeong awkwardly stands there, waiting to be released. “Alright… enough of that.”

Instead, he hears Do-san sniff and whisper, “I didn’t deserve any of that recognition.”

Ji-pyeong rolls his eyes, “Okay, genius. Stop rubbing it in my face.”

“No,” Do-san shakes his head, hair tickling Ji-pyeong’s ear. “I cheated. I didn’t deserve to win.”

Ji-pyeong tries to pull away but Do-san holds on. “I can’t say this with you looking at me… please…”

Ji-pyeong stills then, letting the younger man continue.

“We had to answer 10 complex equations and I got stuck on the last one. The boy behind me accidentally dropped his draft paper… he was trying out the same problem and I—I saw the first step before the invigilator removed the paper. That’s how I knew what to do next. If it weren’t for that, I wouldn’t have won. He would have. I cheated and I never had the balls to tell my parents, but not a day goes by when I don’t think about what a failure I am… It was the only great achievement of my life and even that was a lie. You never had to envy me. In fact, I envied you when I read about your success in the magazine… That’s why I agreed to be your version of Nam Do-san. You imagined me better than I could ever be. Because you _are_ better than me. And I wanted nothing more than to be all that… to live up to that version Instead, I took everything from you and made a mess of it. I’m so sorry… I—I’m sorry. I don’t deserve any of that.”

Ji-pyeong senses a complex swirl of emotions rising within him. He expects to feel resentment but he doesn’t. He doesn’t pity the crying mess of a man either. He just feels… _sad._ How lonely it must have been to carry that knowledge for such a long time. How much it would have hurt every time Ji-pyeong told him he wasn’t cut out for the work he got himself into. Accused him of incompetence.

That’s what he is thinking about when he does something so uncharacteristic of him.

He returns the hug, wrapping his arms around Do-san tightly and swaying a little with the cold breeze in the mostly empty sidewalk. They stay like that for quite a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't ever apologise for long comments. I love them the most. i love hearing about what you liked and what it reminded you of. Thank you for giving me the boost I need to keep going.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV Do-san

Do-san wakes up in the morning, dreading his entire existence. He has been feeling this way ever since the Noongil incident broke out but today, it’s over something else. It’s the shame of being an imposter. Of being thought of as better and failing to live up to the expectations. Of wasted potentials.

Do-san has been quiet since that harrowing confession in front of the store. He has been afraid to look at Ji-pyeong, terrified that he’d see something much worse than indifference or exasperation or even fury in those eyes. How if he looks up and he sees a knowing acceptance? Like Ji-pyeong knew all along, he was proven right in his judgement of Do-san, he really is an incompetent idiot.

Even worse, how if Ji-pyeong squints at him with cutting suspicion? Once a cheater, always a cheater. Maybe he’d equate his first failure to the subsequent ones, maybe he’d accuse him of cheating his way out of criminal indictment, that he had in fact colluded with Alex Kwan in the Noongil case.

He doesn’t want to find out so he has avoided eye contact the whole day after the conversation. He had in fact sat in front of his laptop on the couch and not moved. Not for dinner, not even to sleep. He waited for Ji-pyeong to fall asleep on the bed before he removed his overheated laptop from his lap and curled up on the couch. The stabbing, sharp edges of the couch is nothing compared to the serrated knife of his self-disdain. So, when he wakes up in the morning, body aching everywhere like he had been crumpled by a giant fist and thrown aside, he keeps his eyes closed. He doesn’t want to find out which of the many disasters awaits him.

But after a while, he notices that the apartment is awfully quiet. He opens one eye to see if Ji-pyeong is still sleeping but there’s no sign of the older man anywhere. Not in the kitchen, not in the bathroom given that the door is left half-open. He gets up and stretches, feeling like a burglar in his own house.

He goes to take a quick shower and finds a sticky note on the mirror.

> Going out to get breakfast. Make coffee?

It is only when freshly-showered Do-san goes to the kitchen that he finds what awaits him on the table. A blue-grey box tied with a ribbon with his name on the card. He lifts the box in confusion to inspect it closer. It’s so much lighter than he expected, given the size. How if this is Ji-pyeong’s way of saying he’s done with this façade? How if he opens this to find signed documents for annulment of marriage?

But then he reminds himself of the note in the bathroom. Ji-pyeong doesn’t skirt around a point unless it’s absolutely necessary. If anything, he’s brutally honest. If this incident were to make him change his mind, he would have heard from the source itself; Ji-pyeong would have berated him and pointed out exactly how little he thinks of Do-san. He opens it tentatively, worrying about it until he sees what’s inside – 25 neatly arranged bundles of knitting wool, colour- coordinated from pastels to darker shades. The arrangement is so pretty that he doesn’t even have the heart to take one out to test the ply of the wool. It looks like something that should be framed and hung on the wall as it is.

He notices a piece of paper tucked in one corner of the box and pulls it out. A letter. His hands shake even as he unfolds it. He takes a deep breath and reads.

> _Do-san ah,_
> 
> _You’re an even bigger idiot than I previously assumed. In fact, you’re a special kind of idiot. Because anybody with a little bit of sense could have told you that your success isn’t owed to that one step you peeked at._
> 
> _You still answered nine questions on your own, didn’t you? You might have gotten a glimpse of that first step but didn’t you solve it anyway? You got into college at 13. Did you cheat in the entrance exam too?_
> 
> _How about the fact that you’ve got a first class honours degree? Who did you copy from? And the breakthrough in image recognition made in real time in front of the judges and participants of Sandbox residency… I wonder if it were actually Chul-san that cracked the code then._
> 
> _And Noongil being so accurate in its programming, a total game changer? Also, how about the notorious hacker that you managed to outsmart that one time? Or the fact that 2STO was so desperate to hire the boy genius that they paid 3 billion for your passion project, funded you all the way to Silicon Valley and took in two extras because you demanded it… I bet all that is because of that one step you glanced at, right? Wow, what a miraculous step that must have been! Must have held the answers to every problem in the universe!_
> 
> _You are an idiot, Do-san. But not for the reasons you think you are. You’re an idiot because you think so little of yourself despite your many accomplishments. You’re an idiot because you’re sitting around, sulking and avoiding me as though this ruined everything. You’re an idiot because I was going to make you my signature fish stew yesterday but you kept saying you weren’t hungry._
> 
> _Now, stop being an idiot. And knit yourself a pair of gloves. The weather is only going to get colder._

If Do-san cried reading this, well… nobody’s around to judge anyway. He tears a piece of paper from his old notebook.

> **Dear J i-pyeong,**
> 
> **See what I did there? That’s how you start a letter. Not by insulting someone. Hell, you called me an idiot so many times in your letter that I almost forgot my own name.**
> 
> **But… thank you. I needed to hear that. I’ve dreamt about this moment for decades. Mostly nightmares but I’ve been waiting for this, I suppose. To have someone know me, all of me including the ugly bits, and still not think any lesser of me. It was wishful thinking, of course; I had no plans of ever coming clean about it. I was going to take my shameful secret to grave. Who would have imagined that of all people I’d tell it to, it will be you? And that you would actually be forgiving about it?**
> 
> **What I’m really trying to say is thank you. For looking out for me. For believing in me. For sticking around even when I’ve not given you many reasons to do so. Yet, as I write this, I realise that most of all, I’m grateful that it’s you, of all people, who knows it first. I don’t regret that at all.**
> 
> **From a special kind of idiot,**
> 
> **Do-san**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking of continuing this fic in a letter format for a bit. I think the two of them would feel less awkward about things that way. What say you?


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV Ji-pyeong but the last part shifts to Do-san's POV

Ji-pyeong returns just as Do-san finishes brewing the coffee. He sees that the package he left behind has been opened and smiles to himself, before clearing his throat. Do-san looks abashed, placing the mug on the counter as an invitation before scratching his neck and looking at his feet.

That’s when Ji-pyeong sees the torn page, fluttering on the table. He reads Do-san's letter quietly, folds and keeps it in his pocket and sits at the table like nothing happened to save them both the trouble.

“Come, I’ve got hot croissants.”

They eat quietly, Ji-pyeong watching the news on his phone and Do-san looking out the window. After the breakfast, just as Ji-pyeong wipes his mouth, he gets a text from Do-san. He looks up at the man sitting opposite him and raises his eyebrows in disbelief. Do-san merely shrugs.

> DS: wat about the fish stew
> 
> JP: What about it?
> 
> DS: will u make it 4 lunch
> 
> JP: What do you care? You wouldn’t even look at me when I suggested it yesterday.
> 
> DS: im looking at u now…

Ji-pyeong lifts his head to find that Do-san wasn’t lying. He is in fact looking at Ji-pyeong, waggling his eyebrows playfully. But the thing is… Ji-pyeong feels something warm bubbling inside him at the sight. It’s bad enough that he looks like a kid when he smiles. It’s even worse that his puppy eyes stare straight at Ji-pyeong’s shrewd ones like he’s trying to see right through him. He breaks the gaze before the other man really does succeed in his attempt.

Ji-pyeong supposes that something about yesterday had stripped another layer of barrier between them. Although he had come to terms with the fact that Dal-mi will never choose him over Do-san, he supposes there was still a slight resentment. The feeling that Do-san has it all – he may be facing the scariest thing to happen in his life but he still has a community of people who’d show up for him. Hell, Ji-pyeong didn’t quite like him and still, he showed up. Because there’s something about him that makes people want to try, to give it their all, to protect him.

But yesterday was a game-changer. Suddenly, the resentment, the discomfort he had not even noticed he felt, disappeared along with the secret that Do-san harboured. Suddenly, Do-san wasn’t a naïve kid that he first caught sight of running away from his father’s rage. He also wasn’t the suave man who showed up to the charity ball and swept Dal-mi away from him. And he definitely wasn’t the furious man-child that beat the shit out of Ji-pyeong only to break what was left of his heart and sanity by revealing, in the untimeliest manner, Ms Choi’s health issues.

Now, he sees a man that is equal to Ji-pyeong. Equally smart, equally successful, equally deserving... and equally broken. He is used to seeing Do-san smile at others, used to the kindness the younger man shows to the people he loves, but in this moment, it suddenly hits Ji-pyeong that he is somehow included in all that. That this smile is for him. This kindness in his eyes is towards him. And it doesn’t come from a place of pity… it comes from a place of understanding. And Ji-pyeong had not felt understood in a long time.

> JP: I’ll cook if you help me out in the kitchen.
> 
> DS: hell yeah :D

*****

Ji-pyeong shows him how he wants his vegetables sliced and onions diced while he cleans the fish. Together, they make quite a team. Halfway through the process of cooking, Ji-pyeong turns and accidentally catches a reflection of the two of them working side by side on the silver refrigerator and his heart pinwheels.

It’s stupid, he thinks. It’s only Do-san. And he’s probably only a little joyful that they’re both fucked up in some ways. It’s nothing else.

But yet, he turns to look again. And again. And again. Until Do-san turns to him before following his gaze.

“What?” Do-san asks.

Ji-pyeong clears his throat, “Nothing.”

Do-san bumps their shoulders together, “Stop staring mindlessly. You’ll see a ghost... Weirdo.”

Ji-pyeong huffs but he thinks he did in fact catch a glimpse of a ghost. A ghost of potentials, a hint at happiness, a glimmer of the kind of life he wished he had with someone. Anyone. Not Do-san in particular. But… also _not_ not Do-san. Fuck…

*****

Ji-pyeong rolls his eyes but he is very much flattered by the way Do-san moans and compliments his cooking from time to time.

“How the fuck? You’re a genius in the kitchen.”

“I know,” Ji-pyeong smirks. "I'm genius outside of it too."

“But seriously, how?”

Ji-pyeong understands the question and thinks of dodging it but what the hell?

“Spent most of my life eating bland, cheap shit. So, when I finally made it, food became my greatest pleasure. It’s also why I bought the river-view apartment. It’s absurdly expensive but it’s the two things that were always uncertain in my life, you know? Food and a place to live…”

Do-san nods understandingly. “Good for you, man. I can’t think of anyone who’d deserve it more.”

Ji-pyeong rolls his eyes and changes the subject, “Soju?”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. Can you think of anyone who deserves it more?”

Do-san laughs heartily, getting up. Ji-pyeong lets the laughter float in the air and delights in it for a while.

They’re three shot glasses in when Do-san caps the bottle.

“What? Whyyyyy?” Ji-pyeong whines.

He blames it on the alcohol.

“You gotta take meds right?” Do-san answers calmly.

“At night… That’s like forever away…”

“Yeah but… I read somewhere that drinking a lot might… you know? Be bad for people with depression and PTSD…” Do-san says, voice growing cautious, not certain of his boundaries.

“Fuck that. Pour me some—“

“Ji-pyeong ah…”

“Do-san ah…”

When Do-san gazes at him with that big, pleading eyes, Ji-pyeong can’t help what he says next.

“I’ve never been drunk, Do-san.”

“You look pretty drunk now,” Do-san says, raising an eyebrow.

“Exactly. This is the first time. So… let me.”

“Haishh… that does nothing to convince me, Ji-pyeong ah… All the more reasons you need to take it slow.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

Do-san rolls his eyes incredulously, “Err, I don’t know. A godawful hangover? Lots of puking? A depressive episode? Suicidal ideation? Panic attacks? Any number of horrible shit that could happen to you?”

“You sound like a Wikipedia page…” Ji-pyeong says in a mocking tone.

“That’s because it _is_ from a Wiki page. And multiple other websites to fact check. So yeah… I’ve done my research.”

“You did your research?” Ji-pyeong says in disbelief.

“Duh! It’s important to know these stuff. I’m living with you. I should know what you need when you need it.”

Ji-pyeong’s reflex is to say he doesn’t need shit from anyone. He can take care of himself, thank you very much. But fuck his alcohol-addled brain for what he spews instead.

“You know why I don’t get drunk?”

“Because… you wanna be fit…”

“Yeah. And because I live alone.”

Do-san frowns as Ji-pyeong continues, “I’ve lived alone since I left the orphanage… And I’ve never trusted anyone to look after me. So…” he shrugs. “I don’t drink more than a couple of shots. Not at parties, not at company dinners. Do you know how many people have said I’ve got a stick up my arse? That I need to loosen up? Heck, I know that’s what y'all used to say about me too. That I’m so angry all the time cause I’m a dull prick with no social skills.”

Do-san looks away guiltily.

“Not that there’s anything great about drinking… but it’s just something people do back home? Like a rite of passage? I didn’t have a father to pour me my first drink. It was a random fucking supervisor in a place I interned and he practically called me a disrespectful asshole for declining the drink. It’s just… all my life, I’ve done things the right way… the boring way. I’ve never let myself lose control, never did the stupid things people expect you to do in youth. I’ve lived the same way forever and I will go on that way forever more. No childhood, no adolescence, no partying 20s. No room for mistakes. Because if I mess up, there’s nobody… Hell, this dog-tag I wear…" he points to his chest, "it’s not because I had a great fucking time during military service or some shit. I don't wanna remember that shit but I kept this tag though… because if something happens to me, a car crash or whatever, who are they gonna call to ID my body? It's stupid but it used to worry me... But now… I have a roommate. I have you. The kind of idiot who does research and nags me and stops me from getting drunk.”

He’s silent for a long time, smiling lazily at Do-san before he slurs, “And maybe, this is all the time I get before I go back to living alone... living every fucking day the same way. Nothing new, nothing exciting… I think I’d like to take the chance while I can. Even if it sucks, I’d like to know that I tried it.”

Do-san quietly uncaps the bottle and pours him another shot but keeps his hand over the glass to stop Ji-pyeong from reaching for it.

“Getting _drunk_ drunk is not fun. It’s a shitty experience. So… you’re gonna take it slow. And I’m gonna keep you tipsy and riding the high as long as you can. But that means you’re going to have to listen to me, okay? I’ll time your shots with enough intervals in between. And after you take this shot, you’re gonna drink half a glass of water. Yes?”

Ji-pyeong smiles like a kid, “Yes, sir.”

*****

2 hours later

Ji-pyeong’s shirt is drenched with iced water. Instead of drinking like a normal person, he had struggled to find his mouth and poured the water all over himself. Do-san sighs loudly before getting something to wear from the closet. He picks the first thing he finds, his own pair of checkered pajamas. It’s comfortable cotton and his favourite thing to wear.

He should perhaps rummage into Ji-pyeong’s drawer to find his pajamas but he doesn’t want to be intrusive. He helps Ji-pyeong strip and change into the dry clothes. The sleeves and pants are a little longer on Ji-pyeong, so he folds them up for the older man, too inebriated to notice.

The man, tipsy and elated from the drinks, asks “Checkered pajamas? Checkered!”

He then proceeds to put his hand out straight and turn in circles, chanting, “Check! Check! Check!”

It’s probably the most hilarious thing that Do-san has ever seen in his life. And… it’s also kind of cute. He decides to surreptitiously take a video and some pictures to show the older man when he sobers up. He feels a bit bad as he records, feeling like he’s crossing a boundary. But he convinces himself that if Ji-pyeong is absolutely horrified, he’d delete these. It’s a thing just for them... something to laugh at the next day.

Halfway through the recording, Ji-pyeong stumbles and sways, saying, “Fuck, this is the most nauseous I’ve ever been in my life… And I’ve eaten dumpster food.”

Do-san erupts with laughter. Who knew Ji-pyeong could be endearing? He drags the man to the bathroom, places a towel on the floor in front of the toilet bowl and gets Ji-pyeong to sit down, just in case.

He runs over and grabs the bottle of water that he has been steadily keeping an eye on to make sure the older man is hydrated. When he returns, he finds Ji-pyeong’s head in his hands.

“Hey… you good? Headache?” Do-san asks, hand rubbing his back.

“Sleepy.”

Do-san chuckles, “So… you’re not gonna vomit in bed?”

When Ji-pyeong mouths a no, Do-san wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him up. He places Ji-pyeong’s arm over his shoulder and steadies him as he guides the older man to bed.

As soon as his feet hit the edge of the bed, Ji-pyeong drops like a stone in water and falls asleep. He is lying diagonally, his hands stretched out the same way as his weird checkered pajamas dance. Do-san smiles and pushes aside Ji-pyeong's hair, limp and sticking wetly against his forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH you feel me?


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: mentions of homophobic violence

Ji-pyeong opens his eyes, blinks a few times, sighs and closes his eyes again. Fuck. He wishes he won’t ever have to wake up. But he’s not too lucky in that respect because not too long after, Do-san is up and banging things about in the kitchen.

He groans when Do-san places a hand on his shoulder.

“Water and aspirin.”

Ji-pyeong takes them wordlessly, swallows quickly before returning to sleep.

“I made you banana smoothie. Doesn’t taste as good as yours but still…it’s worth a shot. Try it?”

“No, thanks.”

“Ji-pyeong, ah…”

The older man opens his eyes slowly.

“Where does it hurt?”

He feels like he’s thrown into a time loop. Suddenly he’s 15 again, clavicle snapped from getting stomped on by older boys, cussing at him for being a disgusting sissy. He’s in the hospital, listening to the matron tell the doctor that he’s just been having a tough time at school and there’s no need to get the police involved. He blacks out and wakes up again and he’s in his bunk bed in the orphanage, boys playing cards on the floor, laughing, unbothered by the boy wrapped in cast, trying to sleep his pain away. He shuts his eyes and hopes to the universe that the boys will turn off the lights and go to sleep already.

And he feels a warm hand on his forehead, David, his only friend if he could even call him that, asking, “Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere,” he says, can’t help the tears dripping down the corner of his eyes.

David blocks him with his body, “Don’t let them see you cry, I don’t trust these bastards…”

Ji-pyeong covers his face with the one hand that he could still move, places it on his face to hide his tears but he sobs instead, without a single noise escaping his open, gasping mouth.

David still blocking the view, turns around to shout at the boys to get out and play in the common room.

“Can’t you see he’s not well?! Do you want me to call the matron?”

The boys grumble something but they leave anyway. David turns off the light and stops short of shutting the door when he hears one of the vicious boys say, “I told you, he’s a faggot too.”

Ji-pyeong can hardly breathe because it hurts physically to even cry. David holds his good hand, whispering, “I’m so sorry… Fuck these assholes. I wish they called the police. They should have called the police. This is not fair...”

He lifts Ji-pyeong’s head a little to give him painkillers and help him sip water.

Ji-pyeong grits out through his hiccups, “I deserve it. After what I did to Seo-yun, I deserve it…”

David wraps both hands around Ji-pyeong’s, “Don’t say that! That’s not on you! That’s on his insane bastard of a father. Not on you! From now onwards, we’re going to stick together, okay? We’ll go to school together. And if these assholes come at us, well, they’ve got to go through twice the trouble.”

“Don’t… you should leave. They'd assume things about you.”

“They probably already have. But I don’t care anymore.”

Ji-pyeong, still crying, whispers, “Nobody will take your side if they find out. Not the matron. Not even the teachers. Mr Seok called me a monster and told me to repent for my sins.“

“Haisshh that bastard. Ji-pyeong ah, loving someone isn’t a sin. And you know what? Screw Mr Seok.” David tightens his grip on Ji-pyeong’s hand and says, “If you’re a monster, so am I. Let’s be monsters together.”

He snaps out of it when Do-san shakes his shoulder a little. He winces from the phantom pain.

“Where does it hurt, Ji-pyeong ah? Head? Tummy? Where—“

Ji-pyeong gets out of bed, taking the glass of smoothie from Do-san and placing it on the table, slowly walking to the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

*****

He takes quite a while, soaking himself in the tub and trying to forget the feeling. He rubs at his clavicle, knowing the pain is in his mind, not his body.

When he walks out after more than half an hour, he finds a paper on the table next to the smoothie. It’s held down by the weight of a rubber duck. Do-san is in the kitchen, scrambling eggs.

He reads the letter.

> Dear Ji-pyeong,
> 
> This is my friend, Waddles. He is essential to many of my successful programming. You see, in IT, we have this technique of debugging codes. When we can’t figure out the error, we explain it step-by-step to an object until we find a solution. It helps us think aloud.
> 
> So, maybe you don’t want to talk to me right now. But can you please tell Mr Waddles how you’re feeling?
> 
> Here’s a list of codes to debug:
> 
>   1. Do you have a headache?
>   2. How about tummy ache?
>   3. How does your mind feel? Fuzzy? Sad?
>   4. Anything I can do to help you feel better?
> 

> 
> Remember, you said you trust me to look after you. So, answer honestly.
> 
> Yours Truly,   
> Waddles & Co.

Ji-pyeong picks up the pen and writes next to each question.

  1. Do you have a headache? **Mild**
  2. How about tummy ache? **No**
  3. How does your mind feel? Fuzzy? Sad? **Hollow**
  4. Anything I can do to help you feel better? **Don’t know**



He sits around and waits dumbly for Do-san to read it and say smugly, “I told you not to drink! You wouldn’t listen!”

But he doesn’t. Instead he reads it, keeps it aside, and serves them breakfast.

They eat breakfast quietly until Do-san disrupts the peace.

“Hey, quick question?”

“Hmmm?”

“Remember that time I got like super bloody drunk after finding out about the court date?”

“Hmmm…”

“The next morning, you cooked a feast and told me that it’s a cure for hangover… But... you’ve never been drunk. Why would you know all that?”

Ji-pyeong smirks, “I did my research.”

Do-san shrugs, “For what?”

“That wasn’t your first time getting pissed.”

“Huh—of course not. Wha--” Do-san looks at him, confused

“Haishh… idiot. You really don’t remember, do you? That time you got pissed drunk and ended up at Dal-mi’s? I stayed the night too after you puked all over me… I helped Ms Choi cook breakfast that morning.”

“She taught you how to cook hangover food?” he asks astonished.

“Yeah… she did have a husband and son before-- well, you know all that. So… she said it worked like a miracle with them. And then I tried it once more with Dong Chun when he got drunk at a company party and crashed on my couch.”

"Dong-chun? Ha... I wish I could have seen that!" Do-san chuckles.

"Yeah, it was quite something. He talks in his sleep."

“Well...Does this come close then? The food, I mean,” Do-san asks.

“You’re not as good a cook but sure,” Ji-pyeong says, shrugging.

Do-san laughs, “Asshole.”

*****

“What the fuck is this show?” Ji-pyeong asks, wheezing.

“I told you! It’s fucking hilarious! Lee Kwang-soo is the best!”

“It’s disgusting!” Ji-pyeong says even through his laughter.

Somehow, Do-san has managed to convince Ji-pyeong to watch The Sound of Your Heart with him.

“I can’t believe you’ve never heard of it. Do you at least watch the Running Man, you weirdo?” Do-san asks.

“I’ve seen a few episodes of that… but this—“

“Oh, wait, wait, wait for it!” Do-san shouts.

Kwang-soo’s character, Jo-seok, bottom half exposed and censored, face covered with his ipad, runs across the public square. When the screen of his ipad lights up and Jo-seok’s wallpaper shows a clear enough picture of his smiling face to be identified by any passerby, Ji-pyeong buries his face in a pillow and laughs.

****

They’ve been sitting around the whole day watching the series.

Ji-pyeong says, “Well, this romance shit is boring.”

“Why? Ae-bong is cute! I think they make a good pair.”

“Of course you do, lover boy,” Ji-pyeong mumbles.

“What does that—oh please, says you.”

“I’m not the one who fell in love with a girl after the first meeting.”

“You’re the one who offered me a million won just so you can save your childhood sweetheart from embarrassment. You’re worse.”

“You didn’t even take the money. You did it for free, you loser. You’re the lover boy, admit it,” Ji-pyeong says, dodging Do-san’s shove.

“We’re both a bit of a loser, okay? Can we settle on that?”

“You more than me,” Ji-pyeong says laughing.

“Fuck you, pay attention. I love this scene.”

“Ugh… let me guess, he runs back to the airport and tells him he loves her. They kiss and make up. Stop making me watch your fantasies on screen. I’m still a little sore over it,” Ji-pyeong says, rolling his eyes.

Do-san pauses the show, “Sore about what?”

When Ji-pyeong raises his eyebrow, Do-san says, “What? Dal-mi? Haish!”

Do-san looks a little pissed but he continues the show.

Ji-pyeong, trying to lighten the mood again, says, “Fine, we’re both losers.”

“All three of us are.”

“What?” Ji-pyeong asks, eyes wide in amusement. Do-san rewinds the scene and pauses it.

“She wrote letters to you at 13 and then waited for 15 fucking years for a man she has never seen or heard from since. So… I mean, it’s only fair to group her with us. Maybe that’s why we liked her. We're all losers.”

“You obviously haven’t read my letters then. I wrote some of the nicest things ever said in the history of romance, alright? Can’t blame her,” Ji-pyeong says, waggling his eyebrows.

“Exactly! And yet, when she had the chance, she didn’t pick you.”

Ji-pyeong holds a hand to his chest like he had just been stabbed. “Hurtful… but truthful.”

“No—I mean—she should have. Anyone with a bit more sense would have known that you’re the obvious choice. I wasn’t even a contender, really. I had nothing to offer. Hell, if someone wrote me letters like that and then I find out they went through all the trouble of finding someone and convincing them to act the part so I could have one day of bliss, I’d know who to pick.”

“Are you saying this to make me feel better?”

“No… It’s true. She missed out on her great romance with you. Squandered it.”

“You say all that but you call her and cry on the phone to her and expect me to believe it’s over,” Ji-pyeong rolls his eyes.

“Wha—are you talking about the other day? I called Ms Choi. Cause I knew she’s the only one you’d tell things too. I didn’t ask to speak to Dal-mi--”

“Yeah but that’s the thing. She’s still there for you… there’s still hope.”

Ji-pyeong hates it even as he says it. But it’s the truth and Do-san should know that he is loved.

Ji-pyeong smacks him upside his head, “ _You’re_ the great romance, idiot. _You're_ the one they'd be making movies about.”

“Nah… I mean… I’m glad I met her despite it all… I like to think that we met for a reason. But the reason isn’t because we’re meant to be together. I know that now… I-- I take longer than most to make up my mind but once I know, I just know. And she isn’t it for me. So stop calling me a lover boy already.”

He plays the scene again and Ji-pyeong starts to say something only for Do-san to cover Ji-pyeong's mouth with his hand.

“Sssshhh… watch…”

Jo-seok runs across the airport, shouting “Ae-bong!” to stop her from catching the plane. Just as the audience begin to expect a romantic confession, he shouts, “I left my wallet in the taxi! I have no money for the bus! Give me 3 dollars! Ae-bong, give me 3 dollars!”

Ji-pyeong laughs so hard he has to lean against Do-san from the force of it.

“ _That’s_ my great romance, alright!” Do-san says, laughing alongside him.


	21. Chapter 21

my edges are outlined  
in tripwire  
that sprung from the  
seeds of shrapnel  
my spirit left behind  
when i was at war  
with my father.  
there is no map to this terrain.  
only me:  
explorer, cartographer, researcher.  
i rediscover pieces of myself  
with every accidental detonation.  
\- Amita Swadhin

“Ji-pyeong! Ji-pyeong, ah! Come on, wake up.”

Ji-pyeong hears him but he can’t move. He closes his eyes and waits for the feeling to pass.

“Dude, you said you were gonna nap. It’s been 4 hours already.”

He should say something but he finds it difficult. It’s like he’s simultaneously there and not there. He is a hundred miles away, floating away and away with each breath. His heart paces and he feels like he is losing all sensations. The blanket he had pulled all the way up to envelope him doesn’t touch his skin. He has no skin. He rubs his clavicle hard, wanting it to hurt. Wanting to feel something.

“Dinner’s getting cold. Come on, lukewarm porridge tastes like swamp water.”

_Pay attention to the sound of his voice. Pay attention. That way lies the world. The rest is just the fog. Don’t fall into it. Claw your way out._

He squeezes his shoulder hard enough to feel the bone deep ache, the memory of pain, the phantom of a popped socket.

“Hey…”

This time the voice is softer, yet closer.

He opens his eyes and inside the cocoon of blanket, he sees Do-san, with the light from his phone screen illuminating the dark space.

Ji-pyeong closes his eyes again. He doesn’t want to see or be seen like this.

“You’re not doing as well as you said you were, are you?”

Ji-pyeong counts his breath.

“Can you please tell Mr Waddles what’s wrong? Maybe I can help?”

It makes Ji-pyeong angry instead. He doesn’t like being infantilized. As ineffectual as the anger is, he holds on to it. Because it’s the closest he gets to feeling like he’s in the vicinity of his body again.

He snatches the rubber duck from Do-san and squeezes it so hard that it flattens with a shriek. And he holds on to it, feeling the resistance against his palm, fist shaking from the exertion. This might actually work, he thinks.

Do-san is quiet for a while before reaching out to touch Ji-pyeong’s clenched fist and he startles.

Do-san’s voice is hesitant, coming from a place of fear.

“Please, Ji-pyeong ah-- just- say something.”

How could he possibly explain the feeling? He feels like he’s wading through water. But he sees the worry in the younger man’s face and he tells himself he has to find a way to express it. Otherwise, he’s passing the emotional turmoil along to another person, the very person that he has been trying to help. Do-san doesn’t need this shit.

He takes Do-san’s phone where it lays between them, still under the blanket and squinting against the light, he types,

> Dissociation. I think it’s the alcohol. Will take a while usually.

He closes his eyes again and focuses on squeezing the rubber duck again, holding it tight until he feels his fingers cramping up. He’s thinking about how the pain might help him resurface when he feels Do-san move away, leaving the space empty. Somehow, having him there, hearing his quiet breathing, felt comforting. He didn’t even realise that it helped. But he can’t bring himself to call the younger man to return.

A while later, Do-san gently pulls at the cover, exposing Ji-pyeong’s face and torso.

“I’m gonna help you sit up. I want you to hold on to this mug, okay?”

Ji-pyeong opens his eyes, frowning, not understanding what it means but he lets Do-san drag him up by the shoulders. The next thing he knows, Do-san has placed himself at the back, sandwiched between Ji-pyeong and the wall, pulling Ji-pyeong to lean his back against Do-san. The younger man then picks up a mug of what smells like steaming chamomile tea and holds it by the handle while directing one of Ji-pyeong’s palm to rest against the warmth.

“Can you feel this?”

Ji-pyeong nods.

“Here, smell it. I won’t let the mug drop.”

They sit like that for a while, the mug close to Ji-pyeong’s face as he takes a whiff of the tea while counting each breath, Do-san’s hand against his where it touches the side of the mug.

“Can you hold it, you think? Take a sip?”

Ji-pyeong nods, the restlessness slowly fading away. As he wraps his hands firmly around the mug, the heat seeping through his body as he sips, he feels the reverberation against Do-san’s chest as he clears his throat. He is suddenly reminded of where he is and he starts to pull away when Do-san stops him.

“I’m gonna massage your scalp, okay? I read that touch helps so don't-- you know... freak out. You focus on the tea.”

Ji-pyeong closes his eyes and practically melts against Do-san’s chest as the younger man hums a tune mindlessly while running his fingers through Ji-pyeong’s hair.

*****

The next morning, Do-san wakes up to an empty house. He panics a little before running to the bathroom to check if Ji-pyeong had left a note. He had.

> _\- I’ll get breakfast_

Do-san replays last night’s scene in his mind, the way Ji-pyeong had quietly lain against him, eyes closed, letting Do-san’s fingers press against his forehead, run across his eyebrows, his hair, his neck, his shoulders.

At first, he was worried and trying his best to not let the nervousness show as he followed the grounding techniques he read on the first google page he caught sight of. He has never heard of dissociation before. But whatever that it, it sounds… terrifying to experience. He has always viewed Ji-pyeong as a strong-headed man but he hasn’t realised how much work it takes for the man to carry on with as much grace as he does. The strength it takes to pull himself through these episodes. Do-san still dreads sleeping because of his nightmares but he doubts he has seen the worst of it the way Ji-pyeong has. No wonder the man knew exactly what to do when Do-san panicked- the first time over the fear of getting caught for fraud, the second time after almost turning himself in to the police. Ji-pyeong was calm and knew exactly what to do.

A while after, Ji-pyeong had fallen asleep on him and Do-san… well, he let him. He practically stayed sitting up, hugging the man against him, even though it was too early for him to fall asleep and he was getting hungrier by the moment. He must have fallen asleep too at some point because he woke up in the middle of the night to see the lights turned off, he was under the covers, Ji-pyeong wrapped around his back. He blames the cold for it but he didn’t move. He snuggled closer and fell asleep again.

He’s munching on a biscuit, trying to get over the awkwardness he feels, when Ji-pyeong arrives with breakfast. The older man takes a pen from the drawer and writes on the paper bag.

> _Thank you for yesterday. But let’s not talk about it? Mr Waddles is a little flat, so I got you a new one._

Inside the paper bag filled with various savoury pies, he finds a box with a much more visually pleasing rubber duck than the old one he had. When he removes it from the casing, he sees that it has a cute ribbon around its neck with the tag engraved - _Mr Waddles & Co. Happy to help!_


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV Do-san to POV-JP
> 
> Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hYH80WGPet8  
> Stephan Moccio- Fracture  
> Please please please listen to the music as you read when you get to the part - you'll know when you're there. This chapter was inspired by that melody and it's just so soothing to listen to.

Ji-pyeong listens to the news as he eats. Do-san knows that the boundary had been drawn clearly, the wall reconstructed, the glint of a friendly warning… _Let’s not talk about it._ Who knew that it takes so much work to keep quiet and act like you had nothing more to say?

“What?”

“Huh--?” Do-san startles.

“You’re rocking back and forth. What is it?”

“Uh… habit, I suppose.”

“I know, I’ve noticed. You do that when you’re stuck in your head over a problem. So what is it?” Ji-pyeong says, finally putting the phone aside and looking at him.

Do-san breathes deeply and pushes the new, improved Mr. Waddles towards Ji-pyeong. The message must have been received loud and clear for Ji-pyeong closes his eyes and sighs wearily.

Do-san quickly adds, “Mr. Waddles doesn’t need to know the details. He’s just curious if today is a better day for you. And what he can do to help.”

Ji-pyeong’s lip quirks up on one side, a small smile. He grabs Mr. Waddles and puts him aside.

“I’m feeling better today. You hanging in there?” he addresses Do-san.

“Err… ya, I’m okay. Did you—did you sleep well?” Do-san asks, blushing.

Ji-pyeong has a knowing look on his face and Do-san feels like he isn’t being let in on a secret.

“You know what… I think I slept better than I have in years. I can’t even remember the last time I slept so well.”

“Good, cool, good yeah…” Do-san rushes.

“Did you? Hope I wasn’t too much of a bother?” Ji-pyeong asks tentatively.

Something about the formal way he spoke made Do-san snort. “Nah, it was all good. I slept well.”

Ji-pyeong nods and takes up his phone again to continue listening to the news but Do-san halts his movement, “Mr Wad—I mean… _I_ had another question—you didn’t answer.”

Ji-pyeong smiles, “People pleaser, are you?”

“Only people I care about…” Do-san rubs his neck, regretting it immediately as he says it. How weird. “Anyway, yeah… anything I can do to make today better for you?”

“Hmmm… tell me… what’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve done?”

Do-san stares, wide-eyed, taking a while to process.

“That’s what you can do for me,” Ji-pyeong answers, smirking. “Regale me with tales of humiliation.”

Do-san rolls his eyes but says it anyway, “One time, I went out to a cyber café and returned to my boarding school too late. Chul-san, that idiot, fell asleep and didn’t put a rock beneath the gate—it’s this thing where if you stick a rock under it, the lock doesn’t click correctly so with a little bit of a tug, you can get the entrance gate to open up. The guard is usually in the hut asleep and all. It’s a well-oiled system that we had. Until Chul-san fucked up. So, I had to wait outside the gate, lying on the street with cats. The Warden would open the gate and I'd get detention and all that in my mind…”

Ji-pyeong chuckles, “Haisshhh… even your humiliating story isn’t all that bad. What a goody two shoes.”

“I didn’t finish…”

“Oooh… do tell me more.”

“So, I had to pee really badly. But if I peed standing up in a corner, like on a wall, it will be obvious that I did it. So, I squatted down, next to a cat and peed on its spot. To make it seem like the cat did it.”

At this point, Ji-pyeong is covering his eyes and laughing. Something about the sight makes Do-san want spill it all, just so he keeps the man laughing.

“Anyway, the cat won’t even come near the puddle after. It ran away. And I got nervous as morning approached and the spot on the sand was still visible… and let’s just say I was surviving on will power and energy drinks at that point... so… severely dehydrated as a teen… the smell of it… fuuuuhhh…”

Ji-pyeong is shaking his head, like he’s trying to forget the details but he’s laughing so hard, his eyes are beginning to water.

“When I saw the Warden coming, I grabbed the first stray cat I saw, an innocent one, one that didn’t know what I had done to the cat before, and I put it on the spot… It got so angry, it swiped at me with its claws and ran away. There I stood, no cat in sight to prove that I didn’t urinate, blood across my cheek, and shivering so hard… I felt so bad for myself that I started wailing and even the Warden couldn’t bring himself to punish me. He sent me back home for the weekend, told my parents a little time at home may do me some good.”

Ji-pyeong wipes his face, still giggling. “You were always-- just like that huh? So innocent…”

“Hey, I wasn’t innocent. I was mischievous. I just--”

“Nothing bad about it. It’s… it has its charms.”

“Is that—is that a compliment? From Mr. Han Ji-pyeong? Wow! Is that what it feels like to be praised by the great—“

“Shut up. Tell me more.”

“Huh? More stories? Shouldn’t it be your turn?”

“I never offered to make your day better, Mr. Waddles. You offered to make mine. So, get on it.”

As much as Do-san huffs and puffs, he does so half-heartedly. And continues on, narrating every ridiculous thing he has done just to see how much laughter he can get out of the solemn man.

*****

Ji-pyeong stretches, oddly contented, “Wanna do something today?”

“Like what?”

Ji-pyeong shrugs. “I’ve never actually gone out and done touristy things. Maybe you can show me around?”

“Ooooh… yes! We can take more pictures. Paper trails!”

“Paper trails,” Ji-pyeong smiles.

*****

Of course, the first place to visit is The Golden Gate Bridge. It’s a given. Ji-pyeong stands, marveling at the fog and the horns going off, to direct the ships through it. He has always associated his many mental afflictions with the fog. It’s nothing extraordinary; a foggy mind is after all the most common of metaphors. Poets would steer away from such associations in fear of reinventing the wheel. But Ji-pyeong is no poet; he says it as he sees it. When his mind is foggy, there’s trouble overhead. And for the most part, the alarm blaring a signal in his mind, a warning, was never seen as good and necessary. When he hears it ring, he wants to hide away, fold into himself until he’s nothing but a lint in a world of fabric. Just a tiny nuisance, at best ignored, at worst discarded.

But standing there on the famous Golden Gate Bridge, musing about the fog being more beautiful than tragic, he hears the horn and sees it for what it is. A guide, a kindness in a world that increasingly grows distant as he recedes into his mind. Yesterday, the horn was, to him, Do-san’s voice, humming gently, rubbing his back like a mother would to put a sick child to sleep. He hasn’t let himself be that vulnerable since... well, since David offered him kindness and took care of his wounds. Even then, it didn’t feel as comfortable or as natural as it did when receiving it from Do-san.

When he startled awake in the middle of the night, to find Do-san’s head slumped on his own shoulder, snoring softly, an insistent fondness that had been boxed up all these while breaks out of the confines of Ji-pyeong’s restraint. And he wants… he wants so much… he wants to keep this gentle snoring monster, all for himself.

He turned off the light and rearranged Do-san so he could sleep more comfortably. When he saw the man nuzzle his pillow gratefully, Ji-pyeong, after decades of staying away from any such affections, wrapped his arm around him, falling asleep to the rhythmic rise and fall of Do-san’s chest. He assumed it would bring back old memories of Seo-Yun but even then, he never really had the chance to sleep next to the boy he loved, however platonically. Their moments were stolen, borrowed against the world’s will, hidden in a corner that was all theirs, however shabby, up until the world reminded them that it had no room for the likes of them. It felt like a dirty secret. But here, with the warmth of a body leaning into him, the world quiet, waiting for dawn, the space private, it felt like a loosening of a knot, like coming home after marching in the streets, waging war just to be given the right to be. The fantasy was soul-revealing, the fog beautiful, the man grinning next to him, taking pictures, even more so…

*****

They’re walking around after a late lunch when Do-san stops in front of a row of expensive shops, made more expensive by tourism.

“Come, we’ll go in.”

“In there?”

“Yeah, come…” Do-san says, tugging at his hand.

“Welcome to Clarion Music! How can I help you?”

Ji-pyeong raises his shoulders, indicating that he has no idea, turning to look at Do-san as the younger man asks, “You have piano?”

“Yes, we do. This way, sir.”

“Uhm… wait, I—can the customer play it?” Do-san asks. “Test it out.”

“Sure, granted it’s not an inconvenience for other customers.”

Do-san grins at Ji-pyeong, raising his eyebrows in question, and Ji-pyeong slowly shakes his head as the realisation dawns on him.

“Come on, you said you enjoy playing piano. It’s in your list of interests.”

Ji-pyeong rolls his eyes and says in a hushed voice, “In a store? In an expensive one? When we know we’re not going to buy it?”

Do-san whispers back, “We know. _He_ doesn’t. Let’s put on a good show.”

Do-san follows the man guiding them to the piano section. “My husband hasn’t been able to play the piano since we moved to SF. So, I’m thinking of buying him one.”

“Oh, wonderful. Where did you move from?”

Do-san carries on, so confidently, so at ease, that for a second, even Ji-pyeong believed it to be true. “From Seoul. Well, I moved here first- a year and a half ago. I work at the Silicon Valley.”

“Wow!”

“Ha… nothing really. It’s just that we decided on a long distance relationship at first. I’d be returning to Seoul after my contract anyway, but he couldn’t wait. He said, enough is enough and booked a flight and we got married here. A small affair but still… He had to leave everything behind. I want to gift him with a piano.”

“We don’t have room for a piano,” resists Ji-pyeong, as if it was ever really an actual wish that Do-san had.

“We’ll make room for it,” Do-san says, glancing surreptitiously to warn Ji-pyeong to carry on with the act.

“Of course,” says the man. “For the people you love, you must.”

“Come on, darling,” says Do-san, smiling when Ji-pyeong makes a face. “Play me a tune. I miss listening to you play.”

Ji-pyeong is usually confident in his ability but with the two men who have never actually heard him play, looking at him so expectantly, he feels his fingers stiffen and the next few notes sound discordant like a child messing around with the keys.

Do-san’s eyes widen, face comical, as he realises that maybe he had oversold it. Maybe Ji-pyeong wasn’t all that good at it.

The thought makes Ji-pyeong’s movement steadier. No, he’s going to put on a great fucking show. Not for the inconsequential man who is trying to sell them an overpriced instrument, but for the man next to him, smiling encouragingly even when he thinks Ji-pyeong wouldn’t be able to play a proper tune.

“He’s just out of practice,” explains Do-san. “It’s okay, Ji-pyeong ah—“

And the younger man is stunned into silence as he hears the second attempt. He plays the opening verses of[ Fracture by Stephan Moccio](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hYH80WGPet8). It’s not a famous piece that someone like Do-san would easily recognise. And it’s not Joe Hisaishi either, whom Do-san adores because of his love of Studio Ghibli films. But it comes close. It’s an intertwining of two tastes, Do-san’s and Ji-pyeong’s. It’s a new song, only just released nearly a year back. Ji-pyeong had then struggled to sleep (as he always does) and listened to instrumental piano pieces (as he has done time and time again during bouts of insomnia) and he accidentally discovered the newly released album, Tales of Solace.

And just the opening verse, though simple sounding and melodic, captured him so deeply that he had to resurface from the blanket to see what the melody was called. Fracture. He didn’t understand then, why name such a pretty, nostalgic, heart-warming melody after something that makes people visualize broken bones. He had thought of his own fractures then, the clavicle, the shoulder, the bruised pride and shattered heart, the way he still thought of Seo-yun and wondered if he’d ever be forgiven, the way he pondered on Dal-mi’s heart, is it as resolute as it used to be in its desires? Would it pick him still? That first night, he fell asleep with an unquenchable loneliness.

He revisited the tune numerous times after, but with less sorrow and more melancholy – the latter holding a tinge of hope, a rekindled light within. But in the months since he uprooted his life in Seoul, he had not listened to songs to go to sleep. He always had enough on his mind to sort out without the emotional overflow of music.

But right now, as he plays it, he can’t think of a more perfect tune. He has come full circle, he thinks. This tune had intruded his life and lingered for far too long but for what? What else but precisely this moment. For that look on Do-san’s face, wide-eyed, initially amused but instantly moved by the music, enthralled as his gaze follows Ji-pyeong's fingers attentively. In his eyes, Ji-pyeong sees the same feeling he had that first time he came across the melody. The curiosity, the capsule of soft feelings breaking open and spilling over, the desire to see and be seen with the same tenderness this simple melody holds.

Fractures aren’t always about agony, Ji-pyeong thinks. This moment, right here, Do-san’s inquisitive eyes and small smile, this moment is a fracture too. A fracture in Ji-pyeong’s façade, a fracture in a cavern of darkness that lets the light in, a fracture like a blue obsidian volcanic mineral, sharp and stunning, swirling with colours, the edges of desire long made blunt by misfortune now begin to whet its blade in the melodic turns.

A simple tune that asks, _Do you understand me?_

And a simple gaze that replies, _I’m starting to._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come here, let's hug each other to sleep. I've got a lot of feelings


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV Ji-pyeong
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THOSE WHO REGULARLY COMMENT! I want you to know that I do in fact read them repeatedly, revisit the comments practically every day and take some of your ideas into account. I just don't have the energy to reply these days because I'm busy at work and I figured I should use what little energy I have to give you a good chapter. I hope you enjoy this.

“Come with every wound and every woman you’ve ever loved;   
every lie you’ve ever told and whatever it is that keeps you up at night.   
Every mouth you’ve punched in, all the blood you’ve ever tasted.   
Come with every enemy you’ve ever made and all the family you’ve ever buried and   
every dirty thing you’ve ever done; every drink that’s burnt your throat and   
every morning you’ve woken with nothing and no one.   
Come with all your loss, your regrets,   
sins, memories, black outs, secrets.   
I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you.”  
― Warsan Shire

They watch the sunset on the Golden Gate Bridge from the Marin Headlands Vista Point. If only the immigration officers could have seen them then, gazing at the romantic skyline turning purple with dusk, sitting next to each other, voices hushed like they exist in a whole other realm that permits no entry…they too would have believed that this right here is love. Because for what it’s worth, Ji-pyeong can’t seem to stop his mind from wondering if this is love. And he blames it on the exhaustion and the awe-inspiring scenery, he blames it on the body heat in the mostly cold and foggy land, he blames it on the melody and he blames it on the couples around him, kissing as the sun sets, he blames it on everything and nothing but deep within, he knows his heart and it beats a whimsical tune, _This is love, this is love... but also a tragedy._

The initial crowd slowly dissipates once night falls and the temperature drops. But Do-san and Ji-pyeong stay longer, perched on the dirt and staring at the world ahead. Do-san had bought a six-pack beer for this occasion but Ji-pyeong would rather not test fate again. He doesn’t want to dissociate in a place like this. Or even worse, say something he can never take back.

_There are no happy endings, only happy beginnings._

“I think I’m done with alcohol for once and for all,” mutters Ji-pyeong.

“Hmmm… that’s alright. I thought it might be a problem so I got a bottle of grape juice and… this one here is apple, I think. Take them both.”

“Oooh how thoughtful…” Ji-pyeong says, wanting to sound like he is mocking the man but falling short at it.

“You know, for what it’s worth… it wasn’t all bad,” Do-san says, taking a sip of beer before looking for the video in his phone.

“What wasn’t?”

“Your drunk escapade.”

He plays the video for Ji-pyeong and cackles maniacally at the older man’s embarrassment.

 _“Checkered pajamas? Checkered! Check! Check! Check!”_ the voice rings from the phone.

“Why the fuck—“ asks Ji-pyeong.

Do-san shrugs, “Blackmail material.”

“Haishhh—“

“I thought it …nice. You look carefree here. Happy,” says Do-san softly. “I didn’t plan to show you because I was afraid you’d make me delete it. But… I just wanted you to know. Yesterday may have been horrible but there were other moments that made you laugh.”

Ji-pyeong returns the phone but doesn’t look up. He feels quite vulnerable in the moment and he might do something stupid like hold Do-san’s hand. There’s no one in the vicinity to justify hand-holding.

 _Dal-mi was right. It’s nice to hold his hand,_ Ji-pyeong thinks, with exasperation that has neither a known source nor a destination.

Do-san, two cans in and words pouring with a little less resistance, confesses, “I know you didn’t offer to make my day. But… you have—today. I think I’m happy today. I haven’t been in a long time.”

Ji-pyeong nods, “Me too.”

Do-san then pulls one knee up to rest his chin against it, turning slightly towards Ji-pyeong even as he stares straight ahead at the bridge.

“It got me thinking…” he starts. “Maybe I’m going about this all wrong… I—it’s been a long while since I slept well, or didn’t dread having to wake up knowing I was one day closer to judgement day. And maybe—that’s a worse kind of hell, you know? One I can never escape even on the days when everything is all well and good. Because that’s in my head, you know? I think you get what that’s like better than most. Like—take just now, when we were walking along the bridge and you were so mesmerized by all that landscape. And-- and I realised… I had seen this same bridge a few times already. Never did I look at it the way you did. I was too busy worrying about the next thing or getting irritated about all the couples around here that keep reminding me of all that I have never experienced. I mean, I had Chul-san and Yong-san but it’s not the same. So much of my life is spent trying to make something out of my day, something to show, to prove that I deserve to be here. But—now with everything that has happened, I must think…What’s at the end of the line for me? Best case scenario, nothing happens and life goes on the same as before. Worst case scenario, I go to prison for a couple of years. Five years max. Maybe I can keep my head down, get some reading done, they offer education for inmates here, get a masters or somethi—“

“That’s not going to happen. I told you I’d figure it out somehow,” Ji-pyeong insists.

He’s not quite sure who he is trying to convince at the moment – Do-san or himself. Because he can’t afford to imagine the worst case scenario. He can’t live with himself if he fails at this. It used to be a matter of principle, but now… It’s a lot more.

“Yeah, yeah I know. But that’s the point, Ji-pyeong ah. Can’t you see? We spend so much of our lives in a hell of our own making. We can do our best, you know? To try and get things our way but that’s _all_ we can do. The rest, we have to just… live it. Experience it, endure it. Remember you said, you wanted to get drunk because maybe this is the only time you’d experience it? It’s like that. Prison is gonna suck, I am not even going to try and act tough about that. But if I think about it too much, I think I’d die before I reach anywhere close to a court decision. So… Ji-pyeong ah… let’s spend the next few weeks the way we did today. Let’s just try to make each day worthwhile. At least then, I wouldn’t have to serve twice the sentence. And you… you’d be able to carry on after, knowing we did what we could and that I appreciated every moment. Because I do appreciate you… I don’t say it enough but I do. All that you have done for me—it still stuns me at times. Let’s just… be. Maybe happiness will have an easier time reaching us.”

Ji-pyeong is quiet for a long while. He is not going to let Do-san go to prison. He’s sure of that. More certain than before. He’d give up every asset in his name and take massive loans if he must but he’s not letting Do-san take the fall for a crime he didn’t commit. But that’s his personal hell to deal with. If Do-san wants to not think about it any longer, he can play along.

Ji-pyeong puts his gloved hand up like a Muppet, inhaling deeply for courage before putting on a fake voice.

“Mr. Slithers wants to know what he can do to make today better for you.”

Do-san snorts and chuckles. “Mr Slithers…you chose a snake?”

“Yup. I’ve been told I could be venomous.”

Do-san laughs, “They don’t know you like I do.”

“You’re the one who—“

“I know, shut up. That’s old Do-san. This is new and improved Do-san.”

Ji-pyeong smiles, “So… tell me. What shall we do?”

“Hmmm… I want to listen to that song again. The one you played earlier.”

Ji-pyeong pulls out his phone, takes Do-san’s earphones out and plugs it in. They each take one end of the earphone and move close enough so that the wires don’t get pulled.

Do-san sways slightly to the music, blowing warm air on his hands and rubbing them together. Ji-pyeong reaches out, grabs one hand and holds it tight, shoving it in the pocket of his jacket. He wonders if he has gone too far but Do-san doesn’t pull away. They sit like that for a long while, listening to the song on repeat.

*****

“Let’s play 20 questions,” says Do-san, snacking on sweet potato chips after their dinner. “I ask a question, you answer. Then it’s your turn to ask. And yeah…you know, 20 questions.”

Ji-pyeong rolls his eyes and says, “I’ll go first. What are you, 12?”

“Nope, I’m turning 31,” Do-san answers seriously. “You only get 19 questions left now, ha! Who’s the idiot?”

Ji-pyeong makes a surprised face to mock Do-san.

“My turn,” starts Do-san. “If I apologise to you for making a mess out of your life, would you forgive me?”

Ji-pyeong looks up, eyebrows scrunched and Do-san merely tacks on, “Let’s just say the beer’s got me a bit down. So, hypothetically, will you accept my apology? I know you said you have already but still--”

“Hypothetically, I have more than forgiven you. I—yeah…”

“What do you mean by that?”

“It’s my turn now,” Ji-pyeong says, smirking. “What can I say to ease your anxiety about the past?”

“You can tell me what you meant when you said you have more than forgiven me,” Do-san says triumphantly, putting his fists up while Ji-pyeong playfully slams his head on the dining table.

“Well… wait… It’s not like—a dare. So I don’t have to answer that!” Ji-pyeong says, eyes wide like he had just found a loophole.

“Except… it’s my turn!”

“Ah fuck…”

“So yeah, please elaborate on the previous statement.”

“Hmmm… does that count as a question? It’s a request but not really—“

“Haishh… what did you mean earlier?” Do-san says exasperatedly.

“I’m glad... I'm glad you made a mess out of my life.”

“Whaa—“

“Shush! My turn. Why does it matter so much what I think of you?” asks Ji-pyeong.

“Because I respect you. What do you mean you’re glad?”

“You’ve changed me… for better or worse. My turn. Do you…”

“What?” Do-san prompts with a friendly smile. “You can ask me anything.”

“Do you still regret having met me?”

“Obviously not. Haish… what a waste of a question. How did you learn to play the piano?”

“My school had a music room I could reserve. It was the only quiet place I had so I stayed in there a lot. Eventually, I just started messing around and… well, piano made sense. I don’t know why…My turn. Why haven’t you knitted yourself a pair of gloves?”

“Working on a different project. But I’m done with it so I can start on the gloves tomorrow. My turn. Is Dal-mi your first love too?”

Ji-pyeong flinches but answers quickly to move on from it. “No. What would you change if you could go back in time?”

“Easy. I wouldn’t have signed the contract with 2STO. Tell me about your first love.”

“What if I don’t want to? What’s the punishment for refusing to answer?” asks Ji-pyeong.

Do-san’s face falls but he simply shrugs. “I can just ask another question then. No punishments.”

“Okay, next question.”

“Why wouldn’t you talk about it? Or is that… is that an inadmissible question?”

“Guilt. Anybody you liked before Dal-mi?”

“Well… I found some of the girls in my school cute but I never made any real effort. I was a bit of a dork,” Do-san says, rubbing his neck. “That lady at the piano shop, the blonde one that spoke to you when we were about to leave…”

“Ya? You liked her?” Ji-pyeong asks, confused.

“No, no. I was going to ask _you_ … if it weren’t for this whole married act, would you have been interested in her? Cause she was definitely into you.”

“No. I don’t even know her. Would you say you have the tendency to fall in love at first sight?”

“I… that’s—I don’t know. I did find Dal-mi very pretty and all when I first saw her. But I doubt I was in love. I think… it was the letters that—yeah. How about you? Do you fall in love at first sight?”

“No, so far not. I need to know the person enough. What lie do you tell yourself most often?”

That stuns Do-san into silence. “Wha—what do you mean?”

“We all tell ourselves lies from time to time. Don’t we?”

Do-san thinks for a long while and Ji-pyeong braces his heart because he knows that Do-san will throw the same question back at him.

Do-san answers tentatively, “Someday I’ll be good enough... to deserve what I have-or- or want.”

Ji-pyeong nods, “Yeah, that's a lie... You’re already good enough. Better than most.”

Do-san pretends to swoon but the shine in his eyes undermines his mockery. “Ji-pyeong ah, is that really you? Did I bring someone else home?”

“It’s me, and no you didn’t. You lose two questions,” Ji-pyeong grins.

“What the fuck? That’s not fair. Those were rhetorical questions.”

“I recall you pulling that shit on me so… we’ll call it even.”

“Ugh… Han Ji-pyeong indeed, the very devil.”

“My turn!” announces Ji-pyeong cheerfully.

He’s playing with fire and he knows it. He should keep the questions superficial. But his heart is pounding in anticipation and he can't stop himself.

“What’s the most... surprising self-realisation you’ve had?” Ji-pyeong asks. 

“Ooofff… we’re going deep huh?”

“Always,” quips Ji-pyeong.

“I’m going to skip this. Ask me something else.”

They stare into each other’s eyes for a long moment, almost challenging the other to say something. Ji-pyeong breaks eye contact first, feeling like he’s pushing it.

“Would you like to settle down someday? Get married, have kids, and all that…” Ji-pyeong asks to alleviate the sudden tension in the air. Seems like a safe enough question.

“Sure. Well, I’m already married. All I’ve got to do is adopt a baby,” Do-san says laughing.

Ji-pyeong rolls his eyes like it’s all just a joke but desire is a blunt ache in his belly that wouldn’t dissolve with laughter.

Do-san’s eyes narrow, “My turn, isn’t it?”

Ji-pyeong shrugs, “Whatever.”

“So… what lie are you telling yourself right now?”

“What?” Ji-pyeong asks, surprised.

“You said we all lie to ourselves. So, what’s your most recent one?”

Ji-pyeong looks away, blowing out a breath like he’s exhausted. “Aren’t you bored already? Wanna watch a movie in bed instead?”

“No,” Do-san says seriously. “You can choose not to answer; I can’t force you. But if it’s all the same to you, I’d like you to answer.”

Ji-pyeong brought this upon himself. He took this game too far and now it’s coming back to haunt him. He could choose not to answer but there’s something electric about the moment, two tired people, trying to dive into each other, trying to uncover something that cannot be said in plainer language. And Ji-pyeong will regret this in the morning but longing is no different than hunger. There’s only so long that you can ignore it before it becomes a physical pain.

Do-san raises his eyebrows as Ji-pyeong stares at him steadily. “You forgotten the question or what? I asked what’s the most recent lie you told your--”

“My feelings don’t matter. I’ll get over it eventually.”

Do-san tilts his head, expecting an explanation, but doesn’t ask further questions. For the first time since the beginning of the game, Ji-pyeong sees it for what it is. He imagined that he’s the only one playing with fire, that the risk is only visible from one end of the table. He imagined Do-san innocent, oblivious. But now, looking back at Do-san’s fixed gaze, calm expression like he knew what was coming, Ji-pyeong feels like he has been outwitted. Duped into playing a game that will only result in his downfall. Do-san must have known. He must have noticed the lingering touches and the easy smiles. And he’s forcing a confession out of Ji-pyeong. Ji-pyeong’s mind blares at him like a siren, warning him to back down. To call it quits. To go to bed. This will become a pain in the morning, an inescapable trap for both of them. If he cares for either of their well-being, he should go to bed and hope against all hopes that Do-san is drunk enough to not remember. But he knows, the man is tipsy at most, the beer’s effect had worn off after dinner. And Ji-pyeong is stone cold sober, he should pull the plug on this conversation. Instead, he wagers all his remaining chips into the pot. A bad investment.

“My turn,” Ji-pyeong says, voice low and quiet. “Tell me something about you that I don’t know but you would want me to know.”

“I sleep better at night when I can feel you near me. I seem to wake up when you vacate your spot. It’s becoming a nuisance.”

Ji-pyeong wants to be shocked by this revelation but it’s as though he subconsciously knew this all along. Maybe because he too had been feeling the same way. So he doesn’t say anything as he watches Do-san squirm in his seat like he’s regretting it.

“Your turn,” Ji-pyeong prompts.

“Would you—is it okay if I hold you when I’m sleeping? I mean… cause I... I just—maybe you would sleep better too. Like would you be open to giving it a try?”

“Yes…” Ji-pyeong clears his throat and continues, “What makes you feel the most loved?”

Do-san looks nervous when he says it, “Words, I guess. Verbal affirmations. Kindness. Sometimes I need to hear it before I can believe it.”

Ji-pyeong nods wordlessly. It’s not something he’s good at. Of course, the universe has never made it easy for him.

Do-san asks tentatively, “I guess, it’s my turn.”

He clears his throat, “How can one tell… hypothetically that is, how can someone tell when you are interested in them?”

Ji-pyeong looks away for a second, weighing the pros and cons of answering this before thinking what the hell and going for it.

“I’d take care of them. I’d cook and clean and give them gifts and anticipate their needs. But I… I’m not good with words. Anything but saying things, I guess…What—what do you need most when you’re anxious? Like… what can I do to help?”

“Whatever you’ve been doing so far helped. So, just be you. You instinctually know how to help… So… what activity would make for an ideal date?”

“Hmmm… Anything with quality time. I don’t know.”

“Something you enjoy doing?” Do-san persists. “An activity.”

“Hiking, I guess. I like the view from the top. And just nice company to be with.”

Do-san nods attentively and Ji-pyeong feels like the next question that is about to roll out of his own mouth will be something along the lines of, _If I told you I wanted to give this, whatever this is between us, a real chance, would you be willing? Or would you be repulsed by me?_

So, he saves them both from the catastrophe and asks instead, “Now, can I please go to bed? I know it’s early but I’m tired.”

“Sure…” says Do-san, looking a little disappointed. “You go. I’ll clean the dishes.”

“Leave it in the sink. I’ll clean tomorrow.”

“Nah, you cooked. Let me clean.”

Ji-pyeong goes to brush his teeth and finds his face flushed red. Fuck, is this how he looked the whole time? His face is far more telling than he wants it to be. He scoops cold water in his hands and buries his face in it. He brushes his teeth and goes to bed, closing his eyes as Do-san goes to the bathroom.

His heart is still racing and he wraps himself up with the blanket and turns to his side. He almost dozes off when he feels Do-san laying down. A few seconds of tense silence before Do-san turns and wraps an arm around Ji-pyeong’s waist.

“Is this okay?” Do-san whispers.

“Hmmm…”

“Good night.”

 _There are no happy endings, only happy beginnings,_ Ji-pyeong thinks, moving closer to the source of warmth behind him. _Still...b_ _etter than nothing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe I shouldn't have gone for slow burn cause this is scalding me. :P Please let me know your thoughts and feelings. You keep me going!


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written in a fit of passion. Excuse any errors, I'll edit them soon.

Ji-pyeong wakes up when he feels the space next to him empty, too cold for his liking. At first, he goes back to sleep thinking that Do-san must be in the bathroom. But he cracks his eyes open when he sees the dim light shine from the kitchen.

“Do-san ah…” Ji-pyeong calls, voice raspy from sleep.

“Yeah? Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up so early…”

Ji-pyeong checks the time on his phone. 4:07 am.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing, go back to sleep.”

“Hungry already?”

“Eerr… yeah, something like that…”

“Want me to make something for you?” Ji-pyeong asks, eyes still closed, fighting against a yawn.

“No, no. Go back to sleep. I’ve got this.”

****

The smell of coffee lingers in the air when Ji-pyeong opens his eyes. Do-san sits next to him, in bed, fully dressed, holding up a hot mug of coffee.

“Here, coffee.”

Ji-pyeong yawns, looking around. The curtains are closed but yet, he sees no sign of light outside. He checks his phone. 5:01 am.

“Why?” Ji-pyeong asks, burying his face in the pillow.

“Ji-pyeong ah, wake up. Drink this. It’s strong. You’ll feel more awake.”

“Why?” Ji-pyeong groans. “This is so unlike you.”

“Haissh, get up. Life’s too short. Come on, up.”

Ji-pyeong clicks his tongue, annoyed. But seeing the anticipation in Do-san’s face, he gets up and takes the mug of coffee.

“Where? Why?” Ji-pyeong groans.

“I wanna show you something. Drink up, then go get ready. Dress in layers. Don’t need to shower.”

*****

Do-san is waiting for him by the door as Ji-pyeong exits the bathroom. He’s wearing his sneakers and he’s bundled up in his winter coat. When Ji-pyeong goes to grab his winter coat too, still questioning what’s happening, Do-san opens a drawer, takes out a navy blue scarf and places it around Ji-pyeong’s neck.

“What’s this?”

“What does it look like? It’s a scarf. I made it with the yarn you gifted me. You like it?”

“When did you—“

“I crocheted like a dozen rows every time you were out of sight. Wanted to make it a surprise. Otherwise I could have finished earlier.”

Ji-pyeong feels his face redden. “You did this instead of knitting yourself gloves. Like I asked you to.”

“Yup,” Do-san says, grinning. “Do you like the colour? I assumed you would like blue.”

“How did you know?”

Do-san throws open the closet, revealing the colour-coordinated shirts in the closet. Mostly all in shades of blue, black and grey.

Do-san wraps the scarf around Ji-pyeong’s neck and tucks it in. “Besides, blue looks good on you.”

Ji-pyeong blushes so hard he has to look down, pretending to readjust the scarf.

“You mentioned that your collar bone hurts when it’s cold. I noticed you rubbing at it. So, I was hoping this would help… Is it warm enough?” Do-san asks, pulling at one end and then the other.

“It’s perfectly warm. Don’t fuss,” Ji-pyeong replies before pushing aside the coats in the closet to reveal a box.

He passes it to Do-san.

“Wha—what’s this? Is this… the same gloves from yesterday?” Do-san asks in awe.

“Yeah… I noticed you checking the price tag. Thought I’d get it for you.”

He was going to give it to him yesterday at the vista point but he would have missed out on an excuse to hold Do-san’s hand so he didn’t. Ji-pyeong is selfish like that. As he’s contemplating his own misdeed, he doesn’t see the hug coming his way before he was entirely enveloped by the tall, gangly man.

“This is too expensive. You shouldn’t have.”

“If money can solve a problem, why not?” Ji-pyeong dismisses, struggling to fight the impulse to cuddle.

He pushes away, explaining something about touch screen sensitive finger pads. It takes all his self-restraint to not lean in further and nuzzle Do-san’s neck like an adoring fool.

“Anyway, where are we going?” Ji-pyeong asks.

“Wait and see.”

*****

It is a 30-minute bus ride to get to the destination. Ji-pyeong hadn’t rode on a bus in a long time. But it is a lot more pleasant than what he expects. Perhaps it’s the early morning quiet, or the fact that Do-san keeps fussing about the scarf. Perhaps it has something to do with Do-san removing his glove from one hand, wanting to compare their hands to see who had longer fingers. Do-san did, but Ji-pyeong is a close second. But the best part about losing that contest? Do-san roars, opening his fingers wide like a python and pretends to swallow Mr Slithers whole. And once he grabs hold of Ji-pyeong’s hand, he doesn’t let go. He intertwines their fingers instead, like it means nothing, looking out the window and pointing at random things he finds interesting. Perhaps it means nothing to him but to Ji-pyeong, rocking side to side with the bus’ movement, watching the glint of fluorescent light reflected in Do-san’s eyes, watery after a big yawn… to Ji-pyeong, it means the world.

*****

The hiking trail is quiet. They’re the only ones out there. It’s still dark out but Do-san came prepared with a torch light to lead the path upwards. Ji-pyeong follows quietly but oh God, he can’t breathe. Not from the exertion but from his heart swelling with sudden tenderness. He recalls the conversation last night, about Ji-pyeong’s ideal date. Never did he expect that it would happen so soon, so casually. Like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Here’s Do-san, climbing up the steps before him, backpack with snacks and sandwiches he had prepared at 4 am despite not being someone who enjoys food prep. He holds out his hand every so often to guide Ji-pyeong, the smile on his face blinding when he turns around to see if Ji-pyeong is alright.

_Is this a dream? This must be a dream. This can’t be happening._

*****

They perch on the second highest point, feet dangling over a rock, breath like ghosts against the breaking of dawn.

“Not bad, old man. You’re a lot fitter than I am,” says Do-san catching his breath.

Ji-pyeong can’t express how he feels. He’s afraid he’d do something impulsive. So, he doesn’t comment on it. He quietly pulls out Do-san’s earphones from the bag and plugs it in his phone. He gives one end to Do-san and plays a piece he loves dearly – [Resolution by MJ Cole.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tx7s8Wy63Mg)

As the first verse chimes, Ji-pyeong turns to look at Do-san surreptitiously. The focus on his face, the way his eyes widen when the second verse continues with a different tone, the ways he inhales deeply, closing his eyes for a moment, hair fluttering with the fresh breeze from the break of dawn.

Ji-pyeong could just about kiss him, he thinks. He imagines just sliding both hands in Do-san’s hair, pulling him closer, and leaving a soft kiss on his lips as the sun rises. Do-san, as though he could feel the need for closeness exuding from Ji-pyeong, wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him closer, resting his head against Ji-pyeong’s shoulder.

The older man can’t begin to comprehend what Do-san intends but just for today, he thinks he can let Do-san take control. For today, he’ll indulge himself with any morsel of affection thrown his way.

*****

They eat the packed sandwiches, remarking on the beauty of the sky.

“Is this the first time you’ve been here?” Ji-pyeong asks.

“Huh? No. I’ve been here a couple of times. With Chul-san.”

Do-san takes out his phone and shows Ji-pyeong pictures from the previous trips. One of Do-san hugging Chul-san from the back. Another of the two friends making kissy faces at the camera. Another of them laughing as someone else takes their picture.

“Chul-san likes hiking too… We’ve been to a few different trails but this is the quietest one.”

Ji-pyeong swallows the disappointment but it transforms and rises within him in a vapour-like anger. A defense mechanism.

_That’s right. I am no different than Chul-san._

Ji-pyeong loses his appetite and he stands up, walks away and observes the clouds as daylight evens out everywhere.

_If he cares about me the same way he cares about everyone else, then I don’t want it._

_*****_

On the way down, Ji-pyeong leads the path. He doesn’t turn to look at Do-san. He doesn’t want to fake a smile or hide the way his heart feels shriveled. To think how exhilarated he was on the way up makes him want to scream. He thought this was special. He thought _he_ was special. That maybe Do-san heard what was unsaid yesterday, read between the lines and understood how Ji-pyeong felt. It’s stupid, it’s so stupid… he could have done without this whole trip. They could have been at home, doing whatever, pretending that yesterday was just a random conversation.

Ji-pyeong could have lived with it like that. He could have remained silent for a long time, kept the swirling desires in check. But this… this hope is going to be the death of him. The scarf, the hike, the holding hands, he thought they meant something. Fuck, he almost kissed Do-san. He got so close to doing it. He jumps over fallen branches and rocks, wanting to get as far away from Do-san as possible. Wanting to run, to fly away, to just fucking disappear in thin air. His heart is drenched with yearning and the cold runs deep.

He ignores Do-san’s remark, “Hey, what’s the rush, old man? Slow down. Slow down, Ji-pyeong ah!”

He’s far enough that Do-san’s voice recedes, easily carried away by the breeze. He’s thankful for a second to catch a break from the way Do-san calls his name, increasingly confused and frantic. He doesn’t want to deal with the questions. He doesn’t want to look at Do-san. He just wants to be alone. Although the voice is distant, he hears the thump of body hitting the ground all the same. He turns around and sees Do-san curled up on the ground, holding one knee close to his chest. The boulder he fell against blocks Do-san’s face but Ji-pyeong could see him writhing on the ground.

Ji-pyeong’s heart gives out at that. The panic rises in his throat like smoke. He climbs back up, on all fours at times to get past the boulders quick enough. He trips over a branch, hurts his toe but soldiers on, practically running until he reaches Do-san.

He’s near enough to hear Do-san shout his name out repeatedly. He must have thought that Ji-pyeong had left him there. The dread makes him shiver. _Please, please, be okay. Be okay. I’m sorry, please._

“Hey, hey, Do-san ah…” he gasps, catching his breath, hands tightening around Do-san’s shoulders to pull him up.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Shit, Do-san ah, where does it hurt?”

He sees the torn cloth of Do-san’s jogger pants flapping limply against the bleeding scratch.

“I’m okay, I’m okay. Hurts like a bitch but nothing’s broken. I don’t think…”

Do-san must have seen the blackening of spirit, the sudden dimness, a breath about to be cut short by panic.

“Breathe. Ji-pyeong, I’m okay. Just a bruise. Breathe.”

Ji-pyeong buries his face against Do-san’s chest, tears beginning to form. He’s an inch away from a full blown panic attack. Do-san wraps both arms around Ji-pyeong, holding tightly even as he hisses from the pain.

“Breathe…ssshhh…it’s okay.”

Do-san’s soothing voice and his fingers pressing against Ji-pyeong scalp and the nape of his neck calm him down enough for him to look up, tears running down his face.

“Why are you doing this to me?! Are you trying to kill me?!” Ji-pyeong shouts, hands clenching around Do-san’s jacket.

Do-san looks half-ashamed but mostly perplexed. “Ji-pyeong ah…”

“Shut up! Just shut up!”

“Ji-pyeong, I’m sorry—I—“

Ji-pyeong grabs Do-san’s face roughly and kisses him harshly, everywhere from his cheeks to his forehead in quick succession but he stops before he reaches Do-san’s lips. He meets Do-san’s eyes, sees the dazed look, thinks about leaning in to kiss his lips but when he gets close enough to feel Do-san’s breath, he lets go. He stands up to catch his breath. What the fuck did he do? Why is today turning into a complete fuck up? If a boulder drops on him right now and kills him in a second, he would be grateful.

Do-san is trying to stand up on his own, holding on to the boulder but the pain etched on his face looks unbearable.

Ji-pyeong helps Do-san stand up but when the younger man opens his mouth to say something, Ji-pyeong warns, “I need you to say nothing until we get home. Don’t say a word. I don’t want to hear it.”

He carries Do-san on his back instead. He thinks that’s a better alternative than to limp alongside him, holding on to Do-san’s waist as the younger man rests his body weight on him. That would make it easier for Do-san to speak and harder for Ji-pyeong to avoid eye contact. He feels like he’s split open right in the centre of his chest and he doesn’t want to deal with emotional crises on top of the emergency they have at hand.

“Ji-pyeong ah, are you—I’m quite heavy, you know?”

“I can tell,” Ji-pyeong scoffs, lifting him up firmly by the thighs. “Hold on tight. Don’t let go.”

“I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“Me neither but shut up. I need to concentrate.”

Slowly he makes his way down, carrying Do-san on his back.

“If you fall, you’re gonna kill me,” Do-san says jokingly but it makes Ji-pyeong stop in his track. The fear once again beginning to overwhelm him.

“Hey, hey… sorry, I was just joking. Maybe you should go down on your own and call for help?”

“I’m not leaving you here. Drop your bag.”

“It’s not like I’m gonna get eaten by wild animals or something—“

Ji-pyeong squats and releases Do-san so his butt hits the ground slightly harder than necessary. He takes the bag off of Do-san and removes the winter coats, shoves them in the bag to make it easier to move. He carries Do-san again, lighter now.

Resolutely, he takes a step, letting the adrenaline drive him. He’s going to bring this man down safely even if it kills him. And a part of him hopes it would, in fact, kill him because he is not ready to face what’s coming.

Eventually, they make it down and the guide drives up to get their belongings for them while another staff clears Do-san’s wounds and puts a bandage on it. They are only superficial wounds, a scratched knee and banged up shin that would reduce in swelling with an ice pack. They take a taxi back home.

Do-san tries to start a conversation but he stops when he notices that Ji-pyeong wouldn’t even look in his direction. It isn’t until they’ve reached home that Ji-pyeong feels it, the adrenaline wearing off. He groans against the tightness in his back, the painful pull on his shoulder. He must have sprained something. He lays down on his side, breathing through the pain, buries his face under a pillow.

“Ji-pyeong, what is it?”

“I sprained something. Will be fine.”

“Where?”

He sees Ji-pyeong pressing against his back and he sits down on the bed with a lot of effort, offering to massage his back. Ji-pyeong is quiet and unmoving. But when he feels Do-san lift his shirt, saying something about ointment, he startles. He feels the shudder run down his spine as Do-san’s warm hand lays flat against his back; he sits up abruptly, fighting the pain and letting out a sharp breath.

“Don’t. Leave it.”

“Ji-pyeong ah…”

“Don’t touch me. I mean it,” Ji-pyeong says, falling back in bed.

****

“You’re angry with me.”

Ji-pyeong doesn’t say a thing, shoving the rice and stew he made for lunch in his mouth. His back still hurts but if he moves slowly enough and doesn’t straighten up abruptly, the pain is bearable.

“I’m sorry I spoilt your day. I—I don’t understand...”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

“Then why aren’t you talking to me?” Do-san insists.

“Haish… do I need to be speaking to you every minute of the day?”

Ji-pyeong clears his plate before he’s even done eating and goes back to bed, pretending to nap.

****

“Today didn’t turn out like I wanted it to. Let me make it up to you? Want to go out? I’ll buy you dinner. My treat.”

“I’m not hungry. There are leftovers in the fridge if you want. Or you can go out and eat, up to you. I’m going to bed.”

“I don’t want to go alone…”

“Call Chul-san then. He’s your friend.”

“But you’re right here and you haven’t eaten so I thought we could—“

“Do-san ah… when are you gonna get it? _I’m_ not your friend. _I_ ’m not Chul-san. I’m not going to follow you around like a dog. If you want to go out, go. I don’t feel like it.”

That night Do-san doesn’t hold Ji-pyeong. The older man can’t feel the nagging ache of his muscles only because the tightness in his chest is much more prominent. What has he done?

_There are no happy endings._

*****

Do-san wakes from sleep when he feels a sharp sting on his knees. Ji-pyeong is pressing against the open wound with a cotton ball drenched in iodine cleaning solution.

As Do-san reflexively pulls back, Ji-pyeong holds his leg by the ankle, wordlessly repositioning the leg so he could tend to the wound but Do-san sits up and slaps his hand away.

“It’ll get infected,” Ji-pyeong mutters, glaring at him before reaching out again. “It needs to be redressed.”

Do-san slaps his hand away. Again.

“I’ll take my chances,” Do-san says cuttingly.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Ji-pyeong says, placing his palm carefully on Do-san’s thigh only to have the younger man seize his hand and yank it away.

Ji-pyeong holds on to his hand so Do-san can’t push him away again but the younger man struggles against the grip like a trapped animal.

It shocks Ji-pyeong to the core when Do-san says, voice cracking like he’s a second away from bursting into tears, “I’m an idiot, alright! A fucking dumbass! Always been stupid. Fucking-- let go of me.”

Ji-pyeong lets go and Do-san, still furious, loses it, smacking at Ji-pyeong’s chest with the back of his hand, “You made me a fucking idiot again, haven’t you? What, is this fun for you, huh? Fuck!”

Do-san buries his face in his hands, voice muffled when he says, “Why do I fall for this same shit over and over again? You’re all the same. You pull and pull and pull and when I finally give in, you quit on me. Push me away like I mean nothing. Suddenly, I’m the idiot. The day before yesterday, you made me think you’re in this too…That you understood what I felt. But it’s just me and my stupid feelings again, isn’t it? I’m a fucking joke.”

Ji-pyeong’s hand trembles but he reaches out, pulls at Do-san’s hand, persevering even when Do-san slaps his hand away until he’s holding Do-san’s hand with both of his, cupped like a promise.

He rests his lips on the back of Do-san’s hand, on his knuckles, breathing heavily as he feels the younger man relent.

“It’s not just you…For what it’s worth, it’s not just you.”

He doesn’t open his eyes but he feels Do-san moving closer until he’s resting his forehead against Ji-pyeong’s. The feeling makes him tremble all over. His breath catches.

“Ji-pyeong ah… don’t—don’t just… If you’re just saying that to-- to calm me down, don’t. Do you understand what you’re saying to me?”

“Do _you_?” Ji-pyeong asks, looking up, eyes tearing slightly. “Sometimes, when you’re around someone for long enough… you misread things. It’s just— feelings… it may seem a lot bigger than it actually is. Do _you_ understand that? You can’t… you can’t just say things like this. Not unless you’re absolutely certain. You can’t… cause I won’t be able to take it. If you changed your mind, I can’t handle it.”

Do-san pulls at him resolutely until their noses touch and he moves to kiss Ji-pyeong. Ji-pyeong wants to give in so badly but self-preservation kicks in and he turns away. Do-san kisses the corner of his mouth instead. It’s tender and soft and lingering and if it weren’t for the way their hearts ache, it would have been perfect.

When he pulls away, Ji-pyeong closes his eyes, “Don’t… sometimes it’s just… it’s temporary… these feelings. You need time to figure things out.”

“You don’t think I know my own heart?” Do-san asks, voice merely a whisper.

Do-san pulls at the hand he’s holding and places it on his chest. “Feel how fast my heart is beating right now.”

Ji-pyeong sways a little before letting go. “It’s not that easy…”

“What’s not?”

“This… You think you know what you’re feeling but... I’m a man. It complicates things. One day, this will all seem like a stupid mistake.”

“Ji-pyeong ah, stop. Come here—talk to me.”

“No," Ji-pyeong says resolutely, moving away from Do-san's touch. "Give it time. You’ll know. If you still feel the same, you’ll know. Until then… just… don’t rush it. Just-- forget this even happened.”

Ji-pyeong swipes at his eyes with his forearm and takes a deep breath.

“Now, be still. I’m going to dress your wound.”

_There are no happy endings. It’s just a trick desire plays on weak hearts._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me tell me tell me i got so excited to share this as quickly as i could! Come here, we need to talk!


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, written in a fit of passion. Will edit later. And honestly, this is not at all what I had planned for this story. This came out of nowhere. POV DO-san

Isn’t it funny how most of our lives is spent in loneliness and it takes a certain depth of affection given and taken from someone before we notice how lonely we were before? You’re despondent, you’re bored, you’re exhausted and still life goes on. Nothing registers as quite significant. You love someone and suddenly your soul can’t seem to bear the emotions that it has known from birth. Loneliness won’t do. Boredom won’t do. No pleasant company or little pleasures in life will do. Only that one person will ever be allowed to happen to you ever again. Every other desire and pleasure and pain is dulled in comparison. You love them and it hurts. They love you back and it hurts. But not loving is not an option. The body becomes immediately unaccustomed to anything else. If Do-san could have found the words to say it simply, he would have. But the articulation of such tender feelings has yet to find a convenient form.

If he knew to string the words, he would have said to Ji-pyeong, _I adore you. That’s a truth I’ve come to accept and know. But if you ask me how I arrived at this conclusion, I’ll break into pieces. Because I don’t know how or when it happened but it did all the same. Does it make my affection matter less? Can't you just believe me when I say I adore you so much that I’ve stopped pondering on what misdirection led me here? For once in my life, despite every wrong turn, despite the threat of what’s to come, for once in my life, I can say, I won’t change anything about it. Because if all of these errors resulted in me being here with you in this tiny apartment, it’s worth everything. That’s how much I adore you. But don’t ask me why. I just do._

“Do-san ah,” Ji-pyeong calls, lightly kicking the bed. “Get up already!”

“I’m not hungry…” Do-san says.

“You didn’t eat last night and you skipped breakfast. You’re hungry,” Ji-pyeong insists.

He’s not wrong. Do-san is starving. But getting out of bed is a step towards reality that he isn’t prepared to take. He had literally confessed to having romantic feelings for Ji-pyeong in the morning, not in so many words but he thinks the kiss should have been self-explanatory… and yet, the man has gone on with the rest of the day like it was inconsequential. _Forget it happened_ , he had said. As though memory is a candle flame, easily extinguished with a puff. Memory is the heat that lingers long after.

“What do you care?” Do-san whines.

He’s whining. He knows he’s whining and Ji-pyeong would chalk it up as such. But he wants to hear it so badly from Ji-pyeong. _I care. Of course I care._

“I didn’t cook lunch just to throw it in the trash.”

“Eat it then. I don’t feel like it.”

“Haissshh…”

He wishes he could speak to Dal-mi about this. What an odd thing to wish for. How desolate must the heart be before you feel compelled to reach back into time, to a love that you once swore would never end, to a cavern it left behind, and ask, _“Did I really feel all this for you then? Have I forgotten feeling like this? Or is this something new? Dal-mi ah, can you tell me what this is? Did you feel the same for him- for the boy who wrote you those letters? Am I to blame for these feelings? Or is he? Could it just be that because it’s such a rare privilege to know him, that anyone who does will inevitably fall for him all the same?”_

*****

A letter flutters and falls on Do-san’s head. He opens it.

> **Dear Nam Do-san,**
> 
> **I’m sorry. I wish I knew how to make things okay. What I know from experience is this: feelings that arise from the kind of circumstances we’re in don’t usually last. Trust me.**
> 
> **When you need someone, you have little choice but to like them, to feel tenderness towards them. But when the crisis passes, you don’t always want them anymore. What you feel for me is similar; it’s a product of the adversities you’re going through – the court date, the anxiety, the fact that you’re spending every moment of your day with me…**
> 
> **Once this passes, once we get through this (which I promise you we will), your life will return to normal and this feeling won’t make any sense to you.**
> 
> **I don’t know what else I can say but I was hoping that knowing this will clear your head. Again, I’m sorry. Please eat something.**
> 
> **Ji-pyeong**

What Do-san really wants to say is, _You don’t have to like me. But can you stay with me just like this? In our own world, our imitation of a marriage, you in my bed at night and in my kitchen in the morning and in my eyesight all day long… You don’t have to love me. Just look away. Let me love you._

But he’s afraid he’d scare him away. He struggles between shying away from expressing what he feels and wanting to scream it out until it can no longer be ignored. _Don’t forget it happened. It happened. It did._

> **Ji-pyeong ah,**
> 
> **Impermanence doesn’t mean insignificance. I like you. That’s all I know to be true. I apologise if my revealing it made things difficult for you. I’ll be quiet about it. You don’t have to feel the same about me but stop telling me how to feel. It’s insulting.**

Do-san wordlessly flaps the piece of paper in his hand, not leaving the bed. He hears Ji-pyeong mutter something under his breath before reaching Do-san and seizing the paper. He reads it, face stoic and revealing nothing.

“For fuck’s sake… Don’t be an idiot,” Ji-pyeong says harshly.

Do-san winces but doesn’t reply.

“Haish… get up. Enough with the moping,” Ji-pyeong pulls at Do-san, trying to yank him out of bed. “Sometimes I think you’ve grown up, that you’re a lot more mature now, and then you remind me how wrong I’ve been.”

He mumbles in exasperation, mostly to himself, even as he yanks the blanket off of Do-san, “Stop telling you how to feel…? Two months ago, you called me a fucking hypocrite, a privileged bastard, told me I am of no use to the world, you remember that? Now, what--you like me? It’s all you know to be true? What the fuck do you even know though, seriously? You and your impulsive bullshit—you don’t know enough to know what you want—“

It angers Do-san so much to hear it. All his life, he’s done what is expected of him, without any risky investments. Even with Dal-mi, he had thought and thought about every move until love felt like a chess game. He could never just be himself; he had to be one step ahead at all times or he’d risk losing what he had come to cherish.

The one time he decides to not think himself into an anxious mess, the one time he listens to his instincts, Ji-pyeong undermines his feelings as impulsive bullshit. He can’t restraint himself. He yanks Ji-pyeong’s arm, opposing the gentle force of Ji-pyeong pulling at him. He physically drags him down, and feels only slightly guilty when he sees Ji-pyeong flinch. He’s going to hate himself later for hurting Ji-pyeong’s already sprained shoulder but right now, he is an unthinking creature. The insinuation that he is a fickle-minded child, especially in this matter, wounds him deeply and he lashes out. Ji-pyeong, startled by the sudden strength and momentum, topples over Do-san as the younger man shifts to loom over him, pressing a clenched fist hard against his chest and his unbruised knee between Ji-pyeong’s to pin him down.

Before Ji-pyeong could get a word in, Do-san hisses, “I was wrong about you before, and you were wrong about me. So what? That doesn’t change what _this_ is,” he grasps Ji-pyeong’s shirt for emphasis.

“I don’t know what the future holds. Hell, for all I know, I could spend the next decade of my life in prison. But I know what _this_ is. If you don’t like me, fucking say it. Spit it out! You don’t owe it to me to let me down easy. Just--don’t cover it up with this rubbish about looking out for me; you sound like a condescending prick! Because I like you! I fucking do! And you don’t get a say in that! That’s my heart on the line, not yours!”

He expects Ji-pyeong to deck him for keeping him arrested. After all, Ji-pyeong has a problem with people invading his personal space and often reacts aggressively to touch. At the very least, he expects Ji-pyeong to tell him to fuck off and cuss at him. Maybe he’d just shout at him, making it clear with as many insults as he can manage in a sentence that he’s not at all interested in Do-san. Never in a million years would he have imagined the reaction he received instead.

Ji-pyeong seizes him roughly by the back of his neck and yanks at him until they’re nose to nose for a fraction of a second. He wrestles Do-san until his cheek is firmly against Ji-pyeong’s and… there’s really no better word to describe it but he rubs their stubbly cheeks together, hard, the friction of it prickling and burning Do-san’s skin. It’s violent and it’s intended to hurt.

Ji-pyeong whispers hoarsely, looking like he’s tearing at the seams, snarling, “You think you fucking know what you want?”

As Do-san extricates himself in confusion, Ji-pyeong pulls at the hand Do-san had placed against his chest for balance, dragging it roughly over his chest. “You feel that, huh? I’m not Dal-mi--“

He then grabs that very same hand and to Do-san’s absolute shock, places it against his crotch over his pants for a brief second. If it weren’t for Do-san watching it as it happens, he wouldn’t have been able to believe the events that transpired.

"Do you really know what you want?"

Do-san opens his mouth, eyes wide, looking scared like he’s seen a ghost, as Ji-pyeong shoves at him, dislodging Do-san, and sits up, eyes burning in fury.

“You like me, huh? Fine! Maybe you do!” Ji-pyeong shouts. “But WAKE THE FUCK UP! This will never be easy… Maybe in San Francisco, we can walk down the street, holding hands and nobody gives a shit. Anywhere else you go, fuck—if you go back home today and tell them this—what do you think is gonna happen, huh?”

“People you love, people you respect and care about, people who are supposed to love you no matter what,” he lists, pushing a finger roughly against Do-san’s chest, “your family, your friends, heck, any fucking asshole on the street that knows about these fine feelings of yours—they’d all flock around you to tell you they’re disgusted by your very existence. That they’d rather you see you dead than to see you with a man. Do you fucking understand that?! I’m a man! When people see me, that’s all they see! Not a person. Not your feelings-- not mine! ~~~~

“And you know what’s worse? They won’t keep their disdain quiet either. Oh, no, they’ll tell you—over and over and over again, they’ll tell it to your face and to anyone who’d listen that you’re sick and twisted until it becomes your reality! They’ll hate you for long enough until one day you’ll wake up and you’ll hate yourself! You’ll hate this very feeling you claim to know so well. You’ll hate _me_ for allowing this to happen. If you’re lucky, you’ll walk out of it having learnt something about yourself. If you’re not, it will fucking destroy you inside out. You think any delicate little feelings you harbor now will matter then?! You have no fucking idea what you’re signing up for! Liking me isn’t enough! IT WILL NEVER BE ENOUGH! So, just—just fucking shut up about your feelings already!”

Ji-pyeong lets out an angry grunt, gets up abruptly, and leaves, slamming the door shut behind him as he rushes out of the apartment, seething.

*****

Do-san tries not to panic but it’s increasingly difficult as night falls. He called Ji-pyeong a couple of times at 8pm, see where he’s at, if he can convince the man to come home for dinner since he’s been out since noon, but all he gets in reply is a text that says, “Don’t wait up” before the phone is switched off.

He has had a lot of time and space to think and maybe Ji-pyeong’s right. It’s not the same, it’s not as easy. But does that make his affection any less true? It doesn’t negate what Do-san feels for Ji-pyeong. It still surprises him to think it but he understands the point. Hell, it’s something that Do-san has been pondering about for a long time too. He had always known himself to be straight. The only few people he had been attracted to had been women. But with Ji-pyeong, it’s different. If you’re attracted to people, shouldn’t you be attracted all the same? He had been questioning himself too. Could this just be emotional dependence? But why does he then find himself staring at the picture of Ji-pyeong sleeping soundly on his phone every now and then? Why does he take videos of Ji-pyeong when he isn’t looking and watch it at night when he can’t sleep? Why does it make him breathless every single fucking time Ji-pyeong smiles or laughs? Is that not attraction?

He must have fallen asleep sometime after despite worrying about Ji-pyeong because when he wakes to the sound of the shower running, it’s almost 2 in the morning. He waits patiently for Ji-pyeong to join him in bed but he’s disappointed to see the silhouette settle on the couch instead.

“Ji-pyeong ah…”

He hears the surprised noise in the dark, “Hmmm?”

“Don’t sleep on the couch. Come here.”

“Err… that’s alright. Go to sleep. It’s late.”

When he doesn’t hear the man move, he makes a sound of disapproval and gets up to reach him physically. Except in his sleep-drunk state, he had forgotten about the bandage on his knee and the cut stings as he bends it. He tries to balance himself against the wall but misjudged the distance, slamming his side against the bedside drawer instead.

He hears Ji-pyeong’s quick shuffle, the quiet, rushed way he utters, “Nam Do-san, ah, what are you--?”

Ji-pyeong turns on the dim light by the bed and reaches a hand out to balance Do-san and help him sit on the bed.

“Ah shit… I forgot about the dressing. Wait, sit here. Don’t move,” says Ji-pyeong.

Ji-pyeong runs to the bathroom to get the first aid kit and proceeds to work on Do-san’s knee.

“Sorry… It slipped my mind. This is gonna hurt a bit,” Ji-pyeong says, pulling at the cotton that has now dried up and gotten stuck to the wound.

Do-san looks at Ji-pyeong’s face intently as the older man cleans his wound. It’s so late at night, Ji-pyeong spots dark circles and the yawns he attempts to restraint does nothing to hide the exhaustion. His hair dangles in wet and wavy strands and the way he frowns in concentration makes his crow’s feet more visible. And yet… he looks beautiful to Do-san. It makes Do-san want to caress his face. Can anyone deny that that too is attraction? Even if it’s between two men who thought they were straight.

Ji-pyeong rubs his knuckles against his eyes before looking for the iodine cleansing solution. As he dabs the cotton ball with it, he looks up to catch Do-san’s eyes and turns away, almost guilty.

As soon as he is done wrapping the bandage around the knee, Do-san moves to extricate his leg from where it’s resting on Ji-pyeong’s lap but the older man stops him with his hand on his shin.

He lets his head droop and says solemnly, “Do-san… I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I—I just—I crossed a line and I—I won’t blame you if you can’t forgive me. But I want you to know that I’m sorry. Not a minute went by when I didn’t regret it. I’m sorry.”

Do-san pushes his chin up with a finger and Ji-pyeong closes his eyes, shifting his face away. His eyes are red, his lashes wet, but he wouldn’t let Do-san see him like that.

“I’ve been thinking about it too.”

Ji-pyeong hangs his head again. He nods, swallowing a couple of times. “I can stay in a motel for a bit. If you want space. Let me know what you need.”

Do-san bites his lips for a second, thinking if he should just let this go and tell the man to go to sleep, forget it happened. But he decides against it, for both their sanity.

“I realised… later, after you left—I realised, the whole time you spoke, it was about me. About what’s to come for me. Why I’d regret this. But… you never said a thing about you.”

Ji-pyeong looks away, sighing morosely, “That’s what you were thinking about. Not how inappropriately I behaved? You should be angry at me, you know?”

“Again, don’t tell me what to feel. I can figure that out on my own.”

Ji-pyeong nods, looking like he is about to apologise again but Do-san interrupts him, “I told you how I felt. That hasn’t changed for me… And I’m going to ask you this and I really hope you’ll answer me honestly. Because as much as I want you to respect how I feel, I need to do the same with you. So, whatever you say, I’ll take it for what it is and won’t push it any further…”

Do-san makes it a point to maintain eye contact as he asks, “Do you like me?”

He sees the tears forming and the way Ji-pyeong narrows his eyes to stop the impulse, how he swallows, looking to his side for a moment before answering quietly, “You know I do.”

“Actually, no. I don’t. I can’t know because you wouldn’t say it.”

Ji-pyeong rolls his eyes a little and Do-san controls his face to not let the other man see his small smile at the familiar sight.

“Does it bother you that I’m a man? Does it… I don’t know… does the awareness of my body make things unpleasant for you?”

Ji-pyeong huffs, closing his eyes. “That’s not what I meant when I—“

“Answer the question, Han Ji-pyeong ah. Does the fact that I’m a man turn you off?”

Ji-pyeong sighs, “No, Do-san. I have no issues with you being a man.”

“Okay. Then are you afraid of what will happen if people found out? I don’t know who exactly you’re concerned about but are you afraid of… Ms Choi’s reaction maybe? Or Director Yoon? Like will this make life hard for you?”

“It will for you…”

Do-san smacks Ji-pyeong’s forearm, startling the man. He glares at Ji-pyeong until the older man answers the question.

“No. I know Ms Choi. She won’t treat me any differently. And nobody else’s opinion matters to me. Nobody but yours…”

“Then, what is it? Are you worried that I might end up getting convicted? Because I won’t burden you, Ji-pyeong ah. If I get convicted, I’d let you go. I won’t hold it against you at—“

It’s Ji-pyeong’s turn to startle Do-san as he cups Do-san’s face and leans in, staring into his eyes.

“I don’t want you to let me go… that’s what it is. You like me, sure. But what I feel is much bigger than that. If you start something with me and then change your mind, I won’t be able to take it. You understand?”

Do-san nods. “We can take it slow. At a pace we’re both comfortable with. But if you really do like me, please don’t deprive me of the chance. I want this. I want you.”

That night, they sleep on their sides, looking at each other. And Ji-pyeong will never admit to it but Do-san felt him kiss the back of his hand when he assumed the younger man was asleep.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV shifting at every break of page

_I love you. I love you, Han Ji-pyeong ah. You know I do. But please. Please, I beg you. Don’t tell them the truth. My fath—he’ll kill me himself. He will. He wouldn’t forgive me. He’d rather see me dead than see me with a boy. Please, just this once, please._

The visage of a once loved boy jumps out at him. The sobbing, the hiccups, he remembers looking at the boy on his knees, eyelashes clumped with tears, eyes red and almost swollen shut, the sharp stuttering breaths, and he recalls thinking to himself, “He’s just a kid. Kang Seo-Yun ah, you’re still just a kid.”

Seo-yun was two years older than him, popular in school, handsome, well-built. He towered over most boys, made the others feel like less of a man next to him. He was also polite and respectful which made even the teachers swoon. Maybe something about a boy who looks close enough to be a man made the teachers feel a sense of familiarity, the joking manner with which they’d talk to him. Of course he wasn’t loved by everyone the same way. His peers who weren’t quite close to him saw him with envy at best, hatred at worst.

Ji-pyeong, two years younger, hadn’t quite grown into his body the way Seo-Yun had. He had always seen Seo-Yun as the bigger man… the better man between the two. It was both the desire to _be_ him and be _with him_ that consumed Ji-pyeong’s adolescence. More so than all the other kids, Ji-pyeong had remained indifferent to the boy, or anybody else for that matter. Life had set other concerns before him at every turn.

Then, one day, one drizzling Tuesday, no different than any other day of the month, Seo-yun had just exited a convenience store, stood in the corner of the intersection to put his bag around his front, and remove his umbrella from his backpack. A water bottle had fallen out and rolled across the road. Ji-pyeong did what he would have done for anybody – he picked it up and passed it to its owner.

Seo-yun had smiled at him, bending politely to say thank you, and in return, had offered to share the umbrella with Ji-pyeong. Ji-pyeong had refused, already too wet to care and not wanting to have the boy walk him back to his “home” – an assumption that people often made.

“I’ll walk with you, drop you home,” Seo-yun had said gently.

Ji-pyeong wasn’t in love then. Curious perhaps, but not in love. Caring about this boy’s opinion was too much work, he thought. And so, he led the way to the orphanage. He stopped, expecting a poorly concealed shock, a nervous laughter, at the very least a well-intentioned question. But the boy showed no hesitation, smiling politely and saying his goodbyes before walking away.

The next day it rained again like it frequently did that month. He bumped into Seo-yun outside the school entrance. And the older boy offered to share his umbrella again.

This happened over and over, offering an umbrella when it rained, a nice walk when the sun warmed the earth, a quiet company when it snowed, Seo-yun always found something to bestow upon Ji-pyeong. He imagined it’s because Seo-yun lived two blocks away and he probably didn’t mind the company as he walked home.

It was only so much later that he discovered it was no coincidence. That the boy had bumped into him that drizzly Tuesday because his father was busy at work and couldn’t pick him up from school. But every other day, the long walk home was a premeditated gesture. He had heard so much about Han Ji-pyeong by then. The orphan with a perpetual scowl. No, not one of the other dozen orphans with similar unhappiness etched in their faces. No, not the gay one. The gay one’s David and his middle name is Cocksucker, Seo-yun’s friends would say mockingly.

No, the one who’s good at numbers, that one. The one who apparently corrected the fearsome Econs teacher, making the bald man furious at the impertinence of a child speaking up in class against a master such as himself. The one who made the teacher feel like a village idiot even if he would never admit it. The boy genius who is rumored to have given day-trading insights in class, opposing a theoretical assumption that the teacher had made -which was promptly dismissed as a bunch of horseshit from an attention seeking punk- only to discover the following week that the teacher could have earned a large sum if he had co-opted the insight. Because the boy was right. He was always right.

At first, it was curiosity. Then came the questions. The answers. The understanding. One evening, Seo-yun had suggested they stayed a while longer, talking, drinking canned soda at the abandoned construction site, his treat. The next day, they did it again, because why not? Then, again and again and again. Because Seo-yun had a surplus of money and Ji-pyeong had a surplus of time. Together, they had enough loneliness to drown a village. Why spill over when they can delve into each other, learn to swim in their sorrows together, and resurface with shared breath between interlocked lips and intertwined fingers?

Then came love, affection, devotion. Far bigger than boys their age should feel. Then the downfall – far more disastrous than either of them could have imagined. How that day, with Seo-yun on his knees, crying like a lost child, Ji-pyeong had hit the ground running, leaving the boy behind. How he had hidden behind a telephone pole and sobbed so hard that an animal-like sound escaped his mouth and scared the passers-by. How he had known in that moment, Seo-yun was just a boy, compelled to act the man because some children have never experienced childhood, some children were no better for having parents or the privilege of steady shelter. He knew these things about Seo-yun yet it came as a surprise, still. Because despite it all, he thought he wouldn’t have to carry this burden alone, that the world would recognize, in Ji-pyeong, his youth and innocence and inexperience too; he was not all that different from the other boys who deserved compassion and protection from adults, he assumed.

But orphans are neither boys nor men. They are nobody even when they are their best selves. Their existence is more fleeting than shadows, their path in life as unpredictable as dust dancing under the sunlight. If they slip up, they’re worse than a nobody – they become a leech sucking off the taxpayers’ money. They vacillate between orphanages and juvenile detention centres and the streets and prisons – a life of sub-humanity. Ji-pyeong had become a leech just then, by the mere act of kissing a wounded boy, the act of loving a child deprived of childhood, of liberating a man denied his basic freedoms… Ji-pyeong had become a parasite in the eyes of all adults.

And we all know what came next.

_I love you. I love you, Han Ji-pyeong ah. You know I do. But please. Please, I beg you. Don’t tell them the truth._

The next day, in a fit of anger and resentment against Seo-yun’s indictment of his supposed insanity, Ji-pyeong had opened his palm and let the secret flutter in the air and kick up a storm.

_He loved me, he loved me, and I loved him too._

Ji-pyeong had become _that_ orphan. The one with a permanent scowl. The gay one. No, not David. He’s at least decent enough to not condemn another soul to hell. No, the other gay bastard. The bloodsucker. The sick son of a nobody. The one that almost got somebody’s poor kid killed by telling the world he loved the boy.

*****

Do-san wakes up alone in bed, a feeling he has come to despise. When he can’t find Ji-pyeong, he rushes to the bathroom, looks for a note.

> **You must be hungry. I’ll get breakfast.**

Do-san smiles, feeling like an infatuated school kid. This was how he felt when Dal-mi held his hand in the bus. But with Ji-pyeong, all it takes is a note. Not even a particularly affectionate note but somehow, he feels it all the same. A note means I’m thinking of you. It means I don’t want you to wake up alone and worry over nothing. A note means you can expect me to return any time now. I’ll anticipate your hunger before you’ve even registered it. I’ll look after you. A note from Ji-pyeong means so little to the world but means the world to him.

He brushes his teeth and washes his face, skipping shower because of the whole bandage situation that he doesn’t quite know how to navigate and sets about making coffee for the both of them.

The minute he hears Ji-pyeong open the door, his heart races and he feels a little out of breath. Gosh, why is he so excited?

Ji-pyeong smiles at him before looking away and pressing his lips together. Do-san’s mind obsesses over the dimples. Do-san has never quite liked his own smile. He looks like a goofy kid and he thinks it’s about time that the universe grants him the privilege of looking like a man. But other than his height and perhaps his bulk, he has never quite managed the look. Yet, seeing Ji-pyeong smile, almost shy as he looks away and busies himself with laying out the meal on the table, Do-san can’t seem to find it in himself to feel self-conscious.

Ji-pyeong’s talking softly about egg and tofu rolls and only jumps slightly when Do-san wraps an arm around his waist from the back and leans his chin against the older man’s shoulder. Ji-pyeong’s speech halts, almost like he’s holding his breath.

“Is this okay?” Do-san asks, turning his head slightly to look at Ji-pyeong.

The older man looks down at the table, a small smile, his face turning pink, as he nods once.

Do-san marvels at the sight. How is this even a thing? He has seen Ji-pyeong furious and frustrated, lost and sad. He has seen him bored and indifferent, even vengeful at times. But never has he seen him bashful and quiet, relenting and leaning into the embrace.

Ji-pyeong must have noticed Do-san’s astonishment because he clears his throat softly and straightens before playfully chastising, “Eat! I’m not carrying you to the hospital on my back.”

*****

“Did you sleep well last night?” Do-san asks, reaching for another egg roll.

“Yeah… you?” Ji-pyeong says almost too casually.

He didn’t. He’s hoping Do-san can’t tell the difference.

“Lies…”

“Huh?” Ji-pyeong stares at him surprised.

“I know you didn’t sleep well.”

“What do you mean?”

“You turned around abruptly and I startled awake. You looked really stressed, like you had a nightmare. I sort of woke you up after a while, don’t you remember?”

Ji-pyeong shakes his head slowly, “I’m sorry.”

That’s not a lie at least. He doesn’t remember Do-san waking him up.

“Do you want to talk about the nightmares?”

“Err… I don’t remember it. Must be something stupid.”

Now, that’s a lie. He remembers every detail of it. Because it was less of a nightmare and more of a broken recording of the past, playing in a loop.

_I love you. I love you, Han Ji-pyeong ah. You know I do. But please. Please, I beg you. Don’t tell them the truth._

“Are you sure?” Do-san interrupts his thought.

Ji-pyeong looks up, wondering if he had said something in his sleep that gave him away.

Do-san merely looks at him calmly, even as he swallows the bite of tofu, “You were crying in your sleep, Ji-pyeong ah… Maybe if we talk about it, I can help you the next time it happens.”

Even before Do-san could finish the sentence, Ji-pyeong feels the way his body bristle in response, shutting down any facial expression. He doesn’t want to be an asshole, not to Do-san. Do-san is the most open and sincere person he knows next to Ms Choi. If he dislikes you, you’d know. And if he likes you, you’d know it with more clarity than you’ve known your own heart. Do-san likes him. Do-san is pretending to be nonchalant but Ji-pyeong can see the way he’s holding himself, how much work it’s taking for him to let Ji-pyeong open up in his own time. But his body doesn’t care. His body sees an intrusion and it turns into an armour. When you have spent your whole life shielding yourself from the world, it becomes a way of life.

He’s fiddling with his phone as he drinks coffee, opening a news portal like he does every morning. Maybe Do-san won’t notice. But the silence that follows makes it clear that Do-san did notice the door slamming on his face and he’s patiently waiting outside, convincing himself that Ji-pyeong means well, that the door would open someday.

_Please, I beg you. Don’t tell them the truth._

*****

Do-san dries the dishes as Ji-pyeong washes, including the ones from yesterday. They’re quiet but it isn’t the cold silence of Ji-pyeong ignoring the offer to talk earlier. This is a pleasant one. Occassionally, Do-san looks up to see the reflection of Ji-pyeong on the window and he finds that the older man had been gazing at him too, averting his eyes when he’s caught.

“You’re allowed to look at me, you know?” Do-san says knowingly.

He can’t believe his own voice. Where is this confidence coming from? He would have sooner burnt to the ground before saying such things to Dal-mi. He was never truly flirtatious with her. He was only ever caring, reliable, affectionate... but in a different way. So, what is this? What is he inviting into his life?

Ji-pyeong scoffs, “Who said I was looking at you?”

His familiar attitude of dismissal is back but the way his cheeks turn crimson undermines the pretense.

Ji-pyeong’s hands are covered in soap suds but Do-san’s aren’t, They're just a little wet so he wipes them against his t-shirt before turning to look at Ji-pyeong, cupping his face and forcing the man to drop the utensils he was washing into the basin.

Ji-pyeong looks at him, eyes wide in surprise.

“You don’t have to pretend with me,” Do-san says with a smile.

He sees the way Ji-pyeong tries and fails to look away for a second, like he was caught guilty of something… but more than that, he sees how the guilt turns into something less abashed to something a little darker, more solemn. He doesn’t know what’s going on in Ji-pyeong’s mind; he had been relatively quiet this morning. Not that he ever spoke a lot but still… he hasn’t been nearly as snarky as he usually is.

Do-san may have initiated this interaction as a brazen attempt at expressing desire but seeing the way the man almost shrinks, the way his face reflect an unspoken ache before it is forced to take the shape of aloofness, something in Do-san twinges and pulls.

He repeats again, earnest and gazing into Ji-pyeong’s eyes as he caresses his thumbs back and forth softly against Ji-pyeong’s cheeks, “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

Ji-pyeong’s breath hitches and he closes his eyes but doesn’t try to move away. The soap suds drip from his hand onto the floor but he doesn’t notice.

He just says, “I don’t know what you mean.”

Do-san moves closer, brushing his nose against Ji-pyeong’s, “It’s okay. We’ll take it slow. I’m here, I just wanted you to know that.”

Do-san doesn’t know if he means what he says, only because time isn’t on their side. There is no taking it slow because Do-san can’t promise that a month or two from now, he’d still be here. But when he feels Ji-pyeong’s head hit lightly against his shoulder as the older man leans in, letting Do-san wrap his arms around Ji-pyeong’s shoulders even if he doesn’t make a move to hug him back, Do-san knows he said the right thing.

*****

Do-san’s phone rings first. And before he could relay to Ji-pyeong the content of the conversation that has put a look of tremendous fear in his eyes. Ji-pyeong’s phone rings. One after the other. An invitation for an interview at the local USCIS field office in a matter of days to check for marriage fraudulence. Of course, this is Ji-pyeong’s life after all. When had he known peace?

_Don’t tell them the truth…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPEAK TO ME! I'M DROWNING IN LONGING


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet to edit but take it! TAKE IT!

Because I liked you better  
Than suits a man to say,  
It irked you, and I promised  
To throw the thought away.

To put the world between us  
We parted, stiff and dry;  
'Good-bye,' said you, 'forget me.'  
'I will, no fear', said I.

If here, where clover whitens  
The dead man's knoll, you pass,  
And no tall flower to meet you  
Starts in the trefoiled grass,

Halt by the headstone naming  
The heart no longer stirred,  
And say the lad that loved you  
Was one that kept his word.  


_A.E. Housman_

  
  
Do-san is used to hard work and stress. So is Ji-pyeong. But neither of them had worked this hard as willingly as they do now, bouncing questions at each other, jotting down notes, making mind maps, organizing documents as evidence. A few times, while sharing some personal tidbits, one or the other gazed like they were awestruck and Do-san… well, he’s only a mere mortal. There’s something so intimate and amorous about being the subject and object of study. The only work to be done all day long. The careful concentration, the unnerving adoration, the loving acceptance of the most mundane information about the other.

One time, talking about scars, Do-san pulls up his shirt to show Ji-pyeong the side of his torso where he had once torn skin against a nail that protruded from an old school chair, how his parents had to take him to the clinic to get a tetanus shot, how he had imagined for months after that his jaw was a bit stiffer than usual, how he had worried himself for many days and many more nights. All that worrying had made him incredibly conscious of his jawline, how oval it was, not square and handsome as people expect men’s jawline to be. To this day, sometimes his neck hurts, possibly due to his text neck syndrome, and he still imagines a tetanus infection.

He expects the teasing laughter from Ji-pyeong but he doesn’t see it coming when Ji-pyeong reaches over and kisses him on the scar, his breath tickling Do-san’s side. When Do-san giggles at the sensation, the older man smiles, moves closer, and nuzzles his jaw.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I think you’re handsome.”

Do-san can’t suppress his giggles to save his dignity. He moves his head to the side, bumping his nose against Ji-pyeong and leans in for a kiss. But Do-san’s lips had hardly touched his, only brushed against for a millisecond before Ji-pyeong pulls away abruptly. Returning to the cheat sheet with the list of questions he wanted to ask Do-san as though he can’t see the yearning on Do-san’s face at the missed opportunity.

*****

The next time he acts out of desire, Ji-pyeong is leaning over him as he shows him the website with an overview of similar types of immigration interviews. Do-san has his laptop on the kitchen counter, sitting on a bar stool as Ji-pyeong cooked dinner. When he had asked Ji-pyeong to read a segment about documentation, he expected Ji-pyeong to stand behind him but he didn’t anticipate the way Ji-pyeong’s face was hovering next to his, spatula in one hand and the other placed on the kitchen counter, effectively trapping Do-san in his seat.

The worst part of it all is the innocence of the gesture. Do-san, glancing at Ji-pyeong surreptitiously, can tell that the man is reading the section carefully. But he’s chewing on the chain of his military dog-tag and his wedding ring hangs against his clavicle, oscillating gently and Do-san feels a shiver all over him, desire pooling in his belly. His eyes droop a little at the sight and he can’t help the way his breath gets shallower and had he a second to collect himself, he could have talked himself out of it.

But just then, Ji-pyeong turns to look at him, noticing the eyes fixed on his lips, a frown between his eyebrows as he processes.

He opens his mouth to ask, “What—“, letting the chain drop, but his lower lip had turned a beautiful purplish pink from all the worrying and Do-san can’t help himself. He leans forward in a daze, so close to kissing Ji-pyeong but the older man holds his face with both hands, stopping him in his motion.

Do-san looks up, eyes wide and innocent before blushing from embarrassment. But Ji-pyeong makes up for it wordlessly with a chaste kiss on his cheek, before pulling away and reading the last few lines standing behind Do-san, without framing Do-san with his arms.

*****

The third time, he’s decent about it. He asks for consent. They’ve been eating Ben & Jerry’s ice cream directly from the container, each with a spoon, as they read the checklist of documents and suggested questions under the Boundless Immigration Inc.

Do-san turns to ask, “Should we apply for their legal consultation?”

“No. Too many cooks and all. Let David handle the legal part. I trust him more than any organization. He has his personal stakes to help us after all,” Ji-pyeong says, reminding Do-san about David’s visually impaired partner.

“You’ve got ice-cream on your lip…” Do-san says, hoping Ji-pyeong would ask where and he could reach out and help him.

But Ji-pyeong merely wipes his mouth with his hands, sucking in his bottom lip between his teeth.

Do-san is absolutely mesmerized by the sight. The deep dimples that show even when he isn’t smiling, the hue of dark pink on his lips, how completely unaware he is of Do-san’s pining. Do-san puts the spoon in his mouth, trying to ward off the feeling. But he can’t stop his gaze from following Ji-pyeong’s movement as he takes another bite of ice-cream, pressing his lips together mindlessly after swallowing. He meets Do-san’s eyes then, releasing his lips and looking at him questioningly.

“Wha—have I got ice cream on my face again?”

Do-san shakes his head but before Ji-pyeong can turn his attention away, Do-san asks softly.

“Ji-pyeong ah… you like me, right?”

Ji-pyeong’s frown deepens, like he is worried about the question, “You know I do…”

“So… is it okay—if I—“

Ji-pyeong raises his eyebrows, “If you?”

“Can I kiss you?” Do-san asks, wincing slightly at how corny he sounded.

But one way or another, he supposes that he had been anticipating a yes. That the possibility of having the request denied had not crossed his mind in the fume of desire.

Ji-pyeong looks at him for a long time and Do-san takes it for a yes. He places his hand on the nape of Ji-pyeong’s neck, running his fingers through the short hair, and leans in, eyes closing.

But at the last moment, his lips didn’t meet Ji-pyeong’s, only his freshly shaven cheek.

He opens his eyes and Ji-pyeong has a small smile on his face as he mutters softly, “Thank you.”

Do-san thinks he got it wrong so he moves in again but this time, Ji-pyeong stops him, cupping his face between his palms. When Do-san pouts without caring about his dignity, Ji-pyeong laughs softly, kissing Do-san’s nose.

He had initially assumed that Ji-pyeong had been oblivious to Do-san’s attempts. Now he’s starting to think that the man is dodging his kisses on purpose. A familiar knot of worry begins to form in the pit of his belly again.

Maybe Ji-pyeong likes him but not like that. Maybe they are a little more than friends but a lot less that lovers. Maybe this is what Ji-pyeong meant when he said liking wasn’t enough. Because not all emotional attachments are romantic, because Ji-pyeong may let himself be hugged or kissed on the cheek for the purpose of relieving touch deprivation but it will never be the kind of relationship Do-san had in mind. If Do-san can’t even convince himself that Ji-pyeong is romantically attracted to him, how will he convince an immigration officer? How will Ji-pyeong?

*****

Do-san’s laying on his side, facing the wall but there’s something about him that remains unexpressed. Ji-pyeong knows this because for the past few days, he had gotten used to Do-san openly staring at him, smiling sweetly at him every time they meet each other’s gaze, so much so that Do-san’s feelings became an invisible presence in the room that Ji-pyeong indulged in. But for the past few hours, the room feels too big, too empty. Do-san’s here but the attention he reserves for Ji-pyeong is not.

Ji-pyeong tried to initiate conversations but the younger man answered politely without sparing him a glance, busy knitting or busy reading something on the laptop or busy staring at his phone, one thing or the other got between them. It makes Ji-pyeong’s chest feel like a sail devoid of wind.

He lays down on his side of the bed, staring at the ceiling for a while before deciding to break the silence.

“Do-san ah, what’s on your mind?”

There’s a long silence that follows and Ji-pyeong half-sits up, leaning to check if Do-san is asleep. His eyes are closed but the frown between his eyebrows reveals that he heard the question.

Ji-pyeong sighs, letting his chin rest on Do-san’s arm lightly, “I know you’re still awake. What’s wrong, Do-san ah?”

“Nothing…” Do-san says softly. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

Ji-pyeong thinks about dropping the conversation but his heart aches. The night has a way of peeling the skin off of Ji-pyeong, leaving him bare and easily wounded.

“Because… you stopped looking at me. I don’t know when exactly or why but you just stopped and it scares me. Is something wrong?”

Do-san turns then, laying on his back and Ji-pyeong shifts to rest his head against Do-san’s belly.

Ji-pyeong feels the rise and fall of Do-san’s breathing for a moment. “Are you nervous about the interview?”

Do-san nods because it’s true. He is. Even though his reticence is mostly caused by the sudden doubt in his mind about Ji-pyeong’s feelings, he is nervous about what’s to come.

“Aren’t you?” Do-san asks.

Ji-pyeong doesn’t answer the question but asks instead, “What can I do to ease the anxiety?”

“Haish…why do you always change the topic when I ask you about your feelings?” Do-san huffs.

Ji-pyeong raises his head, sits up and leans over, balancing himself with his arms next to Do-san’s shoulders, framing the younger boy.

“My feelings don’t matter… I’m here for you. I didn’t come here to give you more trouble than necessary.”

Do-san sighs, exhausted. “Sometimes, you make me want to scream until my head explodes. You frustrate me.”

Ji-pyeong nods understandingly and it makes Do-san chuckle a little, despite his exasperation.

“What are you nodding for?” Do-san asks.

“I know the feeling. You frustrate me too,” Ji-pyeong smiles.

“Asshole…” Do-san shoves at him half-heartedly. “You’re supposed to make me feel better.”

Ji-pyeong smiles warmly, “Even when you frown, you’re beautiful. How do you do that?”

“Yuck, stop it!” Do-san laughs, blushing.

Ji-pyeong half-collapses on him, face buried in the crook of Do-san’s neck.

“Do-san ah, we’ll make it through. You’re nervous and that’s a sane response to the situation. But I won’t let you down this time.”

Do-san leans in, resting his cheek against Ji-pyeong’s temple and wrapping his arms around Ji-pyeong’s back, “Ssshh… Just stay like this for a while?”

Ji-pyeong lays a hand against Do-san’s other cheek, brushing against his temple and hair line until he thinks Do-san has fallen asleep.

He moves away slowly, not wanting to crush the boy with his weight and lays on his back for a moment before turning to his side, back facing Do-san but still close enough to touch. He feels Do-san immediately curl around him, spooning him from the back. Do-san lifts his head a little and whispers, “If you wake up in the middle of the night from your nightmares, wake me up too. We can hang around together until you can sleep again.”

Ji-pyeong intertwines his fingers with Do-san’s, pulling at the hand on his waist until it envelops him and rests on his chest. He can’t say a thing in return, his feelings too vast. Too intense. But he hopes Do-san can hear it in his heartbeat.

_I love him, I love him. Please, I beg you, universe, keep him safe. Even if it means I can't have him, keep him safe._

If only Do-san could decrypt the man and his ways, he would have discovered where the nail remains buried in Ji-pyeong's heart, the rust on it an unnecessary insult. He could have told Ji-pyeong that his love didn't harm a soul. The world, at times, can be cruel without rhyme or reason. But a 15-year-old Ji-pyeong didn't ruin a beautiful boy by kissing him, didn't get him nearly killed by telling the world he loved him. Anyone who had observed Ji-pyeong's kindness in action even when he lacked in words could tell him so with certainty. But that's what makes this a perfect tragedy. Some things in life can only be understood when spoken aloud. And some people spend their whole lives muted, worrying that their very voice could kill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me why, aint nothing but a heartache......

**Author's Note:**

> So....does this premise interest you? Share your thoughts! 😊


End file.
